


Endings

by blackchaps



Series: Accidents [6]
Category: Law & Order: SVU, Oz (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 04:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11028543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackchaps/pseuds/blackchaps
Summary: Tempers and situations boil over, and Toby is caught in the crossfire.





	Endings

******

Toby made sure that he was on time to his appointment with Dr. Huang, not that it mattered. He always waited. Huang had very few private clients as his work for the FBI and SVU kept him busy. Toby didn't feel proud that he was so fucked up that he qualified to be a patient. He signed in five minutes early, pulled a paperback out of his back pocket, and sat down to read. Worrying about the upcoming session was a waste of time. If he were lucky, Chris wouldn't make any comments during it. Chris hated shrinks. He did have a thing for Huang's beautiful secretary though. Toby didn't even bother to smile at her. A high-class woman like her knew better than to date Huang's fucked-up patients.

"Toby?"

Toby pulled himself out of the crime scene that Patricia Cornwell had so cleverly detailed for him and shut the book. Stuffing it away in his coat pocket, he got up and stretched. "Hey, Doc."

"Come on in. Sorry you had to wait."

"I don't mind." Toby didn't. It was better than going inside. He followed him in the office and sat down. "Keeping busy?"

"You know it." Huang sat down and opened Toby's file. "How have you been?"

"Okay. Holly came for the weekend. We had a good visit." Toby wiggled in his chair and tried to relax his muscles. He was a little sore from running and lifting weights. "She's really growing up. I think puberty is tougher now than it was when I was a kid."

"So chasing Nazis, spending time in bars, and making your parole officer crazy aren't on your radar?" Huang gave him that slight smile that meant trouble.

"Oh, that shit. Well, the Nazis were a dead end. The bar was filthy. I wouldn't piss there, much less drink, and Johnson's job makes him nuts, not me." Toby cocked his head to the side. "I thought we were here to discuss things that are important to me."

Huang gave him that look that meant 'don't play the doctor.' "Are you drinking again?"

Toby nearly rolled his eyes, but didn't. Johnson was spreading the poison. For some reason, he was now officially a fucker. Toby said firmly, "I'm not."

Huang didn't look convinced. "And have you been controlling your anger?"

"Pretty much. Stabler is a stabilizing influence." Toby made sure not to grin at him. It was, however, the truth. Of course, he didn't see much of him anymore. "Did you know that he moved out? He's still in the building though. We get together for dinner occasionally." Okay, it was only once so far, but it wasn't technically a lie.

"No." Huang's body language gave him away as he leaned slightly closer. He was intensely curious. "Why did he do that?"

"That was the plan. I had an apartment come open upstairs. He left." Toby knew he looked sad. He was. It was lonely, but it had been the correct decision for both of them. "I wouldn't subject any person to the constant searches."

"So you did it for him?" Huang nodded.

"And me," Toby lied. "He couldn't cook, and he didn't like to clean." He nearly smiled. He'd given the TV to Stabler. Well, it was a loan. Convincing him the search team would break it wasn't hard. Now when Toby wanted to watch the game, he would have to go to Stabler's apartment. It hadn't happened yet, and it probably wouldn't. "Did you think we had some emotional attachment?"

"I ask the questions." Huang frowned. "And don't you?"

"I would say that we're cautious friends on a good day." Toby loved messing with Huang's mind. It wasn't easy, but it was always worth it. "He's a cop. I'm a dirtbag skel. That's a line that neither of us can cross. We both know it."

"You really believe that?"

"Yes." Toby did believe it. It would always stink up the room they were in. "If you thought he'd forget my heroin addiction or the fact I killed a child, you need therapy."

Huang sat back in his chair. "You're a different man now. It's been years. You're clean, and you work hard at SVU."

"So why is my curfew at six?" Toby spread his hands. "Johnson doesn't trust me to stay sober. I spend half my time here, and even you're looking at me sideways. Stabler knows the truth."

"The truth can be hard to pin down. If you agree to attend AA, all the restrictions will disappear." Huang gave a small shrug. Toby knew Huang didn't really care. "Socializing with people dealing with the same problems as you wouldn't hurt."

"You and Johnson want me to sit around with addicts, discuss my cravings, and then go out with them to socialize? Have you two lost your mind?" Toby stood up and went to look out the window. He wasn't the crazy one in the room today. "AA has a dismal record. You know that, or you should. It's nothing but a front for religion. God grant me the serenity. Yeah. Bullshit."

Huang was silent until Toby looked at him. "You might find a friend."

"Someone to hook me up?" Toby laughed, but it wasn't funny. "It's clear to me that you and Johnson have never been alcoholics or addicts. You don't know how we think."

"I think we know more than you give us credit for." Huang made some notes in Toby's file. "Sit down. Relax."

Toby went to sit back down. He was relaxed or he'd be cursing. "I have friends. Not too many, but none of them use. We don't talk about our next beer or tab of ecstasy. And we don't sit around whining about our last shot of whiskey or hit of cocaine."

"Your position is to ignore the problem, and it'll go away?"

"You think I can ignore it? I've been clean for years, and it's still there every day in the mirror, but rehashing it for pity will only drive me to drink again. My name is Toby and I'm an alcoholic? Give me a break. My name is Toby and I refuse to drink because it destroyed my life."

"But you are an alcoholic."

"So what? I'm also a father, a Harvard graduate, a runner, and I can make a mean shank out of next to nothing." Toby took a deep breath. He didn't want to start cursing. It just made him look worse. "Johnson is trying to break my balls. He can confiscate everything I own, but I'm not bending over for him, not this time. If I do, I'll lose my sobriety, which means more to me than the computer or any of the other stuff he's taken."

Huang looked up from writing copious notes. "So this isn't about religion?"

"Of course it is." Toby rubbed his forehead. He was moving past frustrated, but he was determined to discuss this calmly. "The state has no right to force me to attend meetings that are religion-based, even Natalini didn't break my balls about it."

"You said it was about staying clean." Huang thought he had him.

"I'm intelligent enough to have more than one reason. I prayed every day that I was in prison. I've read the Bible and the Koran. I'm a religious person but bragging about it and tying it to my desire for a drink is ridiculous." Toby watched him write quickly again. "You should tape these sessions."

"I do." Huang pointed at the recording device. "I make notes of things I don't want to forget. This one says, pick up dry cleaning."

Toby favored him with a smile. "I try not to like you. It never works. Well, at least I try."

Huang smiled back at him. "You attended group for years in prison. Why the sudden change of heart?"

"I went because it looked good to the parole board and the group was run by Sister Pete. We talked about solutions and dealing with prison life, not religion." Toby pushed his hand through his hair. "It wasn't AA."

"I think you should go." Huang had made up his mind. It was obvious.

"Okay. I'll toss aside my beliefs and my morals so I can have a computer and stay out late with my new drinking buddies." Toby let him have it. "Now what kind of man am I?"

Huang rubbed his hand along his jaw. It wasn't possible that he was at a loss for words. "I want to think about this. We'll talk more next time."

Toby knew they'd talk it to death, but Huang wouldn't change his mind. "Either way, I'll survive."

"It's what you're good at." Huang managed to sound slightly disapproving.

"It is." Toby nodded. It wasn't always pretty, but he'd survive. "Tell me, do you think a man can get addicted to prison?"

Huang shut Toby's file. The session was over. They were always short. "The rhythms, the patterns, the constant supervision? Yes. It's where some men feel the safest."

"I was afraid of that. Is there a group called Prison Anonymous?" Toby stood up.

"There's the door." Huang picked up the phone. He certainly wasn't calling Johnson. "My secretary will call you with our next appointment."

"Thanks." Toby shut the door quietly. He made sure never to slam it, even if he wanted to rip it off its hinges.

********

Stabler opened his locker, unloaded his gun, and placed it inside. He rolled his shoulders and tried to relax. This interrogation would be an easy one. All this guy needed was a nudge and he'd confess.

"Elliot?"

"Hey, Doc." Elliot put the lock back on. "You working this one?"

"No. Do you have a minute?"

"Sure. Making him wait is a good decision." Stabler started rolling up his sleeves. He always made sure his tattoo showed.

"You're no longer living with Tobias Beecher?"

"Nope." Stabler was not going to discuss how he felt about it either. It was lonely, but his life was lonely, so what did it matter. "Why? Need me to arrest him?"

"No." Huang didn't laugh. He wouldn't. "Did you move out because of the searches?"

"Yep." That excuse was easy. "They were a pain in the ass. Beecher had another apartment open up. I got out."

Huang looked thoughtful. "Tell me how’d you characterize your relationship with Toby?"

Stabler didn't like the sound of that. It wasn't any of Huang's business. "We're friends occasionally. He does a good job for SVU when we need him. What else is there?"

Huang didn't answer that question. He had one more of his own. "Does Toby have any other friends?"

"A few. His best friend was Tom Morrison, but Toby told him to get lost when he caught him high." Stabler cracked his knuckles. "Toby's very involved with his family."

Huang frowned. "Does he go to church?"

Stabler smiled. "I accused him of working at the soup kitchen at St. Mark's once. He didn't deny it. I gotta go."

"Thank you. You've been a big help." Huang was gone in a blink. Stabler didn't waste his time wondering what that was all about.

"Ready?" Benson asked.

"Sure." Stabler opened the door. It was time to work.

********

Toby needed some advice, and since he was already at the precinct, he made a small detour. "Captain?"

"Hey, Beecher." Cragen didn't look up from his paperwork. "Tell me you're not under arrest."

"Meeting with Dr. Huang. I've decided to go ahead and fund those vests for the COs at Oz, but I have a problem."

"If you give them the money, Querns will install a spa in his office, right?"

Toby felt his eyes bulge in surprise. He laughed. "That's it exactly."

Cragen smiled and looked up. "And if he finds out it's from you, he'll make sure you're audited."

"Right again." Toby laughed some more. He hadn't found much to laugh about recently. "What can I do?"

"Let me think about it." Cragen pointed at the door. "See ya."

"Man, everyone is kicking me out today." Toby headed for the door. "I had a shower!"

Cragen didn't answer, and Toby spotted Munch. "Hey, cocksucker."

"That's just cruel." Munch laughed though. "Find some Jew jokes, for God's sake."

"I'll work on it." Toby checked his watch. It was four. Time to get moving towards home. Stabler wasn't around, and Toby wasn't going to look him up. "Later."

Munch followed him. "Everyone knows Johnson is messing with you."

"Really? Why the fuck would anyone care?" Toby wasn't even sure Stabler gave a damn. Stabler had moved out fast, and he didn't call or stop by.

"You work here, and you saved Levinson's worthless ass." Munch stayed with him. "You gonna cave?"

"When hell does that cold thing." Toby paused in the lobby. "Are you coming home with me?"

"Nah. Just making sure no one jumps you." Munch smiled. He was so ugly that it was cute on him. "My money is on you."

"Put me down for fifty on Johnson." Toby grinned and went out into the weather. It was cold. It was New York. He pulled his coat tighter and walked until he found a cab.

*********

Stabler stared at his empty fridge. "Shit." He was hungry, and he was sick of pizza and Chinese food. Desperate times called for desperate measures, wasn't that how the saying went? He grabbed a beer and went down one flight and over two doors. It took a moment for him to summon the courage to knock, but he did. Food was more important than his pride right now.

"Come in, Stabler!"

Stabler went in and plunked himself down on a barstool. He wasn't going to beg, but it smelled very good. "Dinner?"

"It's about done." Beecher didn't look up from his book, some type of mystery. "You must really be hungry to hang out with me."

"And I'm sick of pizza." Stabler looked around and didn't deny the accusation. He was very hungry. The place was a wreck. "Search today?"

"Yep." Beecher obviously didn't care. "Fourth one this week. I now own nothing of value. Fuckers took my iPod, which I bought because they stole my CD player!"

"That's-" Stabler searched for a word. If it were him, he'd be beyond furious. "Help me."

"Fucked." Beecher put in his bookmark and set the book aside. "Good thing you're not here. They'd have taken your gun."

"Over my dead body." Stabler hoped it was a casserole. He could smell biscuits. Real food. He was starved. "Give in."

"No. Now I'm pissed. Fucker can kiss my swastika." Beecher didn't sound angry. He cleared the counter and put out some plates and silverware. "And damn it, I am not your bitch."

"You're saving my life. I'm starving. Think of it as charity." Stabler smiled. He had cleared the case. It was a good day. "Please."

"Better." Beecher pulled out a casserole. Thank God. And biscuits. He grabbed a bottled water and sat down with him. "My mother took pity on me."

"Bless her." Stabler served himself and started eating immediately, disregarding the heat.

Beecher nodded. "Did you know she went to school with the chief of detectives?"

"Uh, no." Stabler washed the heat away with his beer. "Why are you telling me this?"

"She called him and complained. I'm now branded as a momma's boy down at the precinct."

"I called you that months ago. Glad to know I was right." Stabler grinned. "Knowing her, she had a forceful argument."

"I'm sure she did. I may crawl in a hole." Beecher began to eat. "When you leave, take the weight set."

"What?" Stabler wished the conversation would wait until he'd finished his plate. He hadn't come here to talk, and Beecher probably knew it.

"They cut the bench open today, looking for drugs. Next time, they'll find an excuse to take them." Beecher pointed with his fork. "I can't watch."

Stabler looked over at it. He put his fork down and got angry. "That's wrong."

"He's making my life hell, or so he thinks." Beecher still sounded calm. He must really be pissed. "Until he's been in the hole, he doesn't know hell."

"I'll take them, and I'll get the bench fixed," Stabler growled. He went back to eating and didn't talk again until the food was gone. "Munch said you were at the house."

"Appointment with Huang." Beecher refilled Stabler's plate. "Didn't you get lunch?"

"No time. Thanks." Stabler began to feel more human, but he was still angry. Johnson was being a complete dick. It was time to discuss this. Maybe there was something that could be done. "What else did they take?"

"Not much left. I gave my desk to Maria. They took my discs with the information about the apartments. We're using her computer to start over."

"Little Maria?" Stabler couldn't believe that. He'd missed something.

"No. Her mother. She's my building manager now. I needed help, since I'm under siege." Beecher ate his biscuit. "She graduated high school. She's smart."

Stabler didn't ask what country she'd graduated high school from. If Beecher said she was smart, then she was, and building manager had to be a better job than domestic help. The argument with Johnson had had good results for Maria's little family, and he was glad, but Beecher was still in trouble.

"What else?"

"Elliot, it doesn't matter. They can take my clothes. I'm not giving in. I have a year and a half left. It'll end." Beecher must have believed that. "And then I'm going to want my TV back."

Stabler chuckled softly. He could tell that Beecher meant it. "I'll deliver it myself. Aren't you worried that they'll search the building?"

"I was." Beecher finished his plate. "Angus owns the building now. They better have a search warrant if they want to go anywhere but this apartment."

Stabler was glad to hear it. He didn't want to think of little Maria crying as the police tore through their apartment, and they would. "Good decision."

"Glad you agree." Beecher opened the dishwasher. He always cleaned up right afterwards. Stabler handed him his plate and silverware. Beecher racked them and muttered, "Damn hacks."

The words were soft and low. Beecher was angry, but he was so accustomed to having damn little that he didn't show it. Stabler stared at him. Beecher was hard to figure out. He'd fly off the handle if someone implied he was less than a man, but he'd let Johnson destroy his life for a principle.

Stabler finished his beer. He'd take the bottle with him. "Thank you and I mean that."

"I know. You were starved. I never thought it was the company. You're welcome." Beecher put what was left of the casserole away. The biscuits were gone. "I have ice cream. You want some?"

"They didn't take it?" Stabler cracked. It made him uncomfortable that Beecher knew him so well.

"Not yet. That's next, I think." Beecher got out bowls and a dipper. "Huang is on Johnson's side, so I'm screwed."

"Is he?" Stabler understood now the conversation he'd had with Huang today.

"Yes." Beecher scooped it out. "You're a cop. You have a drinking problem?"

Stabler took his bowl and started on his ice cream. The question had come out of left field, and he had to think about it. "I'm careful. It's easy to get drunk after every case that involves some little girl getting raped and murdered."

"I would think so." Beecher nodded. "When my son was killed, I remember thinking that at least he wasn't raped. It didn't make any sense, but the thought was there."

"Considering what you'd been through, it was a natural thing." Stabler sighed. He was going to change the subject and come clean. "I think this is more about me taking you to a biker bar than anything. Johnson was furious at me."

"Johnson doesn't like being told no." Beecher's voice was hard. "I'm not giving in to him now."

Stabler ate every drop of ice cream. It was the good stuff. Chunky Monkey. He didn't know what to say about Johnson. There wasn't an easy solution. Stabler sighed. "I'm too full to haul weights up a flight of stairs."

"Well, you can stare at me or get moving. They took the little TV." Beecher put the bowls in the dishwasher and started it. He wiped down the cabinet and wandered over to the window. "I had a friend in prison - Said. He claimed that they could confine our bodies, but not our hearts."

"Was he right?" Stabler was glad to hear that Beecher had had someone other than Keller.

"Oh, yeah." Beecher kept his back to him. "I miss him. He was wrong a lot of the time, but he never quit trying to do the right thing."

Stabler wasn't sure what to say. He'd never had a friend that was on parole. He made a point of not thinking about skels. They got what they earned, and Beecher had earned this. Somehow, that didn't make it right, and that was an uncomfortable thought. "Want some help cleaning up?"

"I don't really bother anymore." Beecher didn't turn around. "But thanks. Oh, before I forget. Would you call my brother and tell him that they took my cell phone today?"

"You do it." Stabler got a little angrier. He pulled out his phone and extended it. "And tell him that I think it's time he start suing people."

Beecher barked a laugh. "Thanks." He took the phone and walked to the bedroom for some privacy. Stabler channeled his anger into getting the weights up a flight of stairs. If he'd have stayed, it wouldn't have gone this far, but it was too late now. Beecher would have to play it out.

********

Toby did put the cushions back on the couch. Next time, they'd cut them open. He was surprised that he no longer cared. It was a couch. For spite, he should give it away. Maria could use a couch. He laughed softly. Tomorrow, he'd do it. Grandma would have some place to sleep besides the floor. They were doing better, and they were doing a good job of running this building. The place was cleaner and better maintained than ever. If he ever moved out, say to Oz, they would do fine.

It had been nice to see Stabler, but he wouldn't be back any time soon. The conversation had been too intense. Stabler was a cop. He might sympathize, but he was in Johnson's corner until the bitter end. The loss of the cell phone cut deep. He couldn't even check on his kids now, and Johnson knew it. He'd smiled. It made no sense that this was so important to him. Was it all about pride? Johnson wasn't a bad guy. He tried to help his parolees, but he was making an example of him, and it was going to get worse. What Johnson didn't know was that Toby didn't care. Honestly. He'd been out a little over eighteen months, and any tiny dose of freedom was precious. Johnson could never understand that, so ultimately, Toby would win.

"That's the last of them. You sure?"

"Positive." Toby hadn't even heard Stabler come through the door. "Oh, wait. There's something else." He got up and went to his bedroom.

"I'm not sure I should watch."

Toby was never sure when Stabler was joking. He had that feeling that he was out of time, and there was one thing he couldn't bear to lose. Moving the closet doors just so, he tore the packet off. "Take these, just until it all blows over."

Stabler opened it up and looked inside. "Pictures of your kids?"

"And letters. Just trust me. I've been through this sort of thing before." Toby pulled one out and smiled at it. "Harry looks like a goof here, and Holly hated her hair short. I'll keep this one."

"I can't believe they'd-"

"Elliot, please," Toby interrupted. He didn't want to beg, but Stabler had that stubborn look on his face. "Take them. I should have mailed them to Angus, but I didn't have time, and this way, I can at least see them occasionally."

"Nice hiding place. I'll remember that." Stabler shrugged. "Fine, but you're overreacting now."

"Okay." Toby put the picture by the lamp that he never turned off. "You can see for yourself."

Stabler nodded. "I will. There's more casserole, right?"

"Tomorrow night, if you want." Toby had a hard time believing that Stabler would come back, but it could happen. He walked him to the door. "I have to make the bed. Later."

"Later." Stabler disappeared upstairs. He still looked skeptical. It must be nice to believe in the goodness of men in uniform. Toby went to make his bed, and then he'd read until he fell asleep. No matter what they did, it was better than Oz. He had to keep telling himself that.

********

Stabler hung up his coat and picked up his messages.

"Hey, Elliot. Are you getting in on the Beecher pool?"

Stabler didn't like the sound of that. "What are you talking about, John?"

"There's a pool of when exactly he'll break and attend a meeting. Five bucks gets you a morning, afternoon, or evening." Munch nodded. "I bought a day."

"How does everyone know?"

"Beecher rented an apartment to Officer Smythe. Apparently, the search team stomps by on a regular basis." Munch shrugged. "Also, Johnson bragged about it."

"He did?" Stabler crushed the messages. That little prick. "Beecher ain't gonna break. I saw him last night. They've taken everything. He doesn't give a shit."

"Good to know. I'm upping my bet." Munch hurried off. Stabler sighed heavily and sat down. He smoothed out the messages. If Munch was upping his bet, then there was more than one pool. Didn't the cops around here have any work to do?

"Johnson is counting on him drowning his sorrows. Shipping him off takes care of that problem," Benson said from behind him.

Stabler turned his chair. "Good morning, Olivia."

"Hey. Why so cheery?"

"I ate real food last night." Stabler was leaving it at that. "You really think Johnson would do that?"

"I think he feels out of his depth with Toby. Toby isn't your regular parolee. He's got money, he works here, he has a razor sharp wit, and he has friends like you. It all adds up to a problem that Johnson wants off his desk."

Stabler could almost believe it, but there had to be more. They were missing something. "What he's doing is wrong. If it gets to the press, he could find his ass in a sling."

"Toby has no rights, and Johnson isn't breaking the law." Cragen joined the conversation. "Do you have Toby's cell phone number? I need to call him."

"Johnson took it," Stabler said calmly. "Send him an email. Oh, wait, they took his computer. Well, you could mail him a letter. They usually tear those up after he reads them."

Cragen pointed at him. "Stay out of this. Toby can handle it."

Benson stood up. "He invited me out to lunch. I'll have him call you on my cell."

"Good enough."

Stabler didn't get it. Why did Beecher want to have lunch with Benson? "You dating him again?"

"Like I'd tell you." She smiled and went upstairs. Stabler had to smooth the messages flat again.

********

Toby didn't bother with breakfast. He'd get some coffee at Starbucks later. Maria was already awake, and Toby took a good look around her apartment before making up his mind. He ignored her half-hearted protests. Yep. He was going to do it.

"Toby!"

Toby stepped out in the hallway. "Hey, bro!"

"They took your cell phone?" Angus came towards him. "Get a land line!"

"How?" Toby laughed. "I put in a request. It'll be two months, but they'll get to it.”

Angus dug in his pocket. "Here. Take my extra one."

Toby sighed and didn't reach for it. "They'll confiscate it. Can you help me with some furniture?"

"Toby, you can't move out, not without permission." Angus frowned.

"I know, Mother." Toby rolled his eyes. "Maria, you're doing me a favor."

"Señor Toby." Maria sighed. "Pues, bien, y gracias."

"De nada and I mean that." Toby headed back to his apartment. "Give me a hand, Angus."

"Sure." Angus put his briefcase down by the door. "What's the latest terror tactic?"

"I can't leave my apartment until eight a.m." Toby shrugged. "Uniform was on the street this morning to make sure I didn't. Johnson won't give up."

"Neither will you. Let me file a lawsuit." Angus picked up his end of the couch while he talked. "Please. It could be a landmark case!"

"No. I'm embarrassed enough." They maneuvered it out and down the hallway. Maria held the door, and they put it against the wall. Toby nodded in satisfaction. "Let's get the bed."

"Excuse me?"

"They sleep on the floor. I've had enough of that. They get the bed. I'll buy a futon or something." Toby smiled at Maria. "I did give you your first week's wages!"

"I bought a crib for the baby, Señor Toby."

"Good." Toby hugged her. He liked her, and she didn't want sex. What a relief. "Where's Grandma?"

"Cleaning the hallway downstairs." Maria rocked the baby on her hips. "You have given us too much!"

Toby went back for the bed. He cursed twice and Angus laughed, but they got it set up in the one bedroom, right next to the crib. It looked nice. Toby went back for the dresser, tossing his clothes in a laundry basket. He was tired of putting them away. Just like Oz, a basket would do. His lamp, he set on the floor, and he took the time to smile at his kids.

"Toby, this is wrong."

"It's better than Oz." Toby pointed at the dresser. "Carry. Quit talking."

Angus helped him get it in their bedroom. Maria threw up her hands and spoke rapid fire Spanish about crazy white men. Toby smiled, nodded, and said, "Don't forget to clean Stabler's apartment. The man is filthy."

Maria nodded. "And there is a broken toilet on the first floor. I will fix it today."

"Good." Toby smiled and waved goodbye. He'd done the right thing when he'd given her the job. His maintenance man had quit, but she could fix almost anything. Angus was right on Toby's heels. "Angus, why are you here again?"

"Apparently, you needed help moving furniture. Cell phone - take it. Hide it. I know you know how." Angus handed it over. "Holly is still beaming. She had a great time."

"Thank God that Johnson waited until she was gone to tear the place up." Toby moved his only chair over by the window. He put the floor lamp next to it and plugged it in. "Nice. It's the spartan look."

"Toby."

"I'll hide it and call when I can. Don't call me. If there's trouble, call Stabler, but only if it's an emergency." Toby smiled at his brother. "Okay?"

Angus groaned. "This sucks!"

"It won't last. Sorry I'm so fucking stubborn." Toby gave him a hug. His brother needed it. He didn't understand. "I'm headed to Starbucks. Want to come?"

"Yeah." Angus sighed. He looked around. "You have nothing."

"You're wrong, Angus." Toby made sure he had his wallet and keys. He'd go jogging after Starbucks and then he'd meet with Benson for lunch. "Let's go."

********

"Lunch?"

"Sorry. I have a date. As if you forgot." Benson laughed and went out the back door. Stabler went far enough to watch her walk off with Beecher. They got a cab. He didn't care. He was curious, nothing more than that.

********

"You're taking me furniture shopping?" Benson laughed.

"You mind?" Toby gave the cabbie directions to a furniture warehouse. "I have terrible taste. I always see things in gray and stripes."

"Orange too. I bet." She nodded. "What are we buying?"

"I need a futon and a small table." Toby considered Benson a friend, and he hoped she felt the same. "Tell me you're not participating in the Break Toby's Balls Pool."

"No." Benson patted his hand. "I know you're embarrassed."

"Yeah. Nothing like airing my dirty laundry in public. Now everyone thinks I'm an atheist, faggot skel." Toby smiled to take the sting out of the words. "There's a small café right next to the furniture place."

"Sounds good. I can lose an hour or two. Stabler will call if there's trouble."

Toby paid the cabbie, and they went inside together. There were several choices, and he watched her choose a big, fluffy one with a Southwestern pattern. "Looks enough like a cot to keep me happy."

"This is top of the line ten inches with a built-in box spring!"

Toby stared at her. "You've lost your mind." He laughed. "Okay, pick a side table. No drawers, just a place to set a lamp, before they break it."

"They don't actually break things?"

"Right." Toby pulled out a drawer on a roll top desk. "This is nice."

"You should get it."

"Some day. Maybe." Toby took her by the hand. She never minded, but she hated kissing in public. "You need anything?"

"I would never let you buy me furniture." She squeezed his hand.

"Why not? Oh, it's that independent woman thing. Yeah. Forget it." Toby took her towards the mirrors, but she detoured them to a nightstand made of cherry.

"This one. It's simple, but elegant."

"Like you." Toby hesitated one beat. "Wait. You're complicated, but elegant."

"Dig yourself out!" She laughed.

Toby pointed out the table to the sales representative that had been lurking. "I need those two items delivered today."

"Today! Not possible."

Toby pulled out some cash. "Really?"

The salesman swallowed. "I'll see what I can do."

"Do that." Toby paid for the items in cash. "Today?"

The salesman held out his hand again. Toby put two hundreds on the greasy palm. "By eight."

"We'll be there, and we hope you come back again, sir."

"I bet." Toby gave them the pertinent information and went to drag Benson away from the dining room tables. "Let's go eat."

Benson nodded. "Money talks, huh?"

"Yes. I could buy anything in prison. Couldn't keep it long, but I could buy it." Toby squeezed her hand gently. "Let's talk about flowers and puppies."

"Good idea." She leaned into him. "And Stabler. And then you have to call Captain Cragen."

Toby sighed.

*********

Stabler gave his partner the eye. She looked pleased with herself, but he wasn't asking why. No, he wasn't.

"Why did Toby need to buy furniture?"

Stabler didn't understand the question at first. "Furniture?"

"He took me shopping. Is Johnson confiscating people's furniture now?" Benson was serious.

"He had furniture last night. Johnson did cut up the weight bench. Maybe he destroyed the couch today." Stabler furrowed his brow. He had better explain why he'd been there in the first place. "We had dinner. His mom makes the best casseroles."

"And you always show up when one's in the oven." Benson smiled.

"Who could blame me?" Stabler frowned. Johnson was out of control, and who could know what his next tactic would be. "I'll check on Toby tonight."

"And the casserole."

"Right." Stabler nodded. He didn't really give a damn about the food, but she didn't need to know that. "Any sign he's cracking?"

"We didn't discuss it, not much. Do you think Toby will give in to this kind of intimidation?"

"Not ever. He's been terrorized by the best." Stabler spoke softly. "Johnson isn't a Nazi."

"No, but he's getting a reputation for being an asshole." Benson shrugged. "You through with the paperwork on the last case?"

"No." Stabler had been thinking, instead of working. "You could help."

"Your turn."

Stabler put his mind back into work. It didn't stay there long, but he tried.

********

Toby started dinner at seven. About the time he got the oven started there was a knock at the door. It was the delivery men, and they sat the futon up against the wall where the plasma TV had been. Toby put the table next to it. Good enough. He pulled out some cash and tipped them.

"Thanks!"

"No problem." Toby shut the door behind them. He went to his room, got his lamp, and put it on the table. The picture, he leaned against the lamp. It was a shame to let it get torn up to prove a point to Stabler. Stupid cop. Toby laughed. Stabler was not stupid. Stubborn and inconsiderate - yes.

Toby found some garlic bread in the freezer. He'd put that in at the last minute. Finished, he grabbed his book and went to his chair. The city was lit up outside his window, and he stared out before trying to read. Johnson was an idiot, but he was pretty good at making someone's life hell. Of course, he couldn't hold a candle to Vern, but Vern had driven Toby to drugs. It was a scary thought. Johnson might be trying to make him get drunk. It would solve the problem nicely. Toby sighed softly. He was starting to feel the pinch. Too much cash was going missing. Some whiskey would be nice about now. He swallowed hard and forced his eyes to the book.

When the buzzer went off, he put the garlic bread in and pulled out the casserole. Stabler would be here soon. Toby got out some dishes and sat down to wait. He tried not to think, but his brain didn't cooperate. He'd gotten used to Stabler being here, and the loss hurt. Stabler might have stuck it out, if Toby hadn't seen him naked. That had sealed the deal. God. The man was sculpted perfection. Had Chris been so beautiful? Toby wasn't sure any longer.

A quick knock and Stabler opened the door. "Toby?"

"Over here." Toby didn't get up. "How was work, honey?"

"You're not funny." Stabler pulled off his coat and put it on the futon. "This is new."

"Yep." Toby watched him take off his jacket and tie. Stabler was home, except that he wasn't. He unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up. With a roll of his shoulders, he wandered over and took the other barstool. "Smells good."

"Forgot lunch again?"

"Had a hot dog on the corner." Stabler looked around at the mostly empty room. "Should I ask?"

"I was tired of little Maria sleeping on the floor, and Johnson was going to tear it up." Toby got the bread out and brought the food over. "Water?"

"Coke, if you got it."

Toby grabbed him a Coke and tossed it. Stabler had no trouble catching it. Toby got himself water and sat down. "I hope you don't mind, but I told my brother that if there was an emergency to call you."

Stabler filled his plate and tapped his Coke to get rid of the fizz. "I don't mind. Did he give you another phone?"

"I don't remember." Toby chewed on some bread before getting some casserole. It wasn't that he didn't trust Stabler, but it never hurt to be careful.

"Where'd you hide it?" Stabler smiled at him. "You can tell me."

"What's the one place that Johnson won't look?" Toby wasn't going to make it easy, and Stabler was a cop.

"In your pants," Stabler answered quickly, but then he reconsidered. "Wait."

"He looks there." Toby laughed. "I'll let you think about it."

"He's strip searched you?" Stabler looked faintly nauseous.

"Lean and cough." Toby picked at his food. He'd had a big lunch with Benson. He had a hard time believing that Stabler was upset about a strip search. "Come on. You've seen it before."

"Sure. Helped out a few times, but it was the job, not a terror tactic." Stabler had a good appetite. He was heading for seconds. Toby wasn't going to have any more leftovers and that was fine. He finished his bread and tried not to notice how he could smell Stabler over the food. Stabler snapped his fingers. "Toby, you still breathing?"

"Just thinking." Toby smiled slightly. He shrugged and told the truth. "I miss having you around."

Stabler cocked an eyebrow at him. "Didn't we argue enough?"

"But the make up sex was great!" Toby moved out of reach of Stabler's right hand and got out the ice cream. He served him a bowl and watched him glare.

"Always a wise ass," Stabler growled. "I'm off tomorrow. We can lift weights."

"Good. And go running." Toby smiled. He needed a friend right now. Not that they were, but whatever the fuck it was, it was better than nothing. "Oh. I forgot. You're not a runner."

Stabler started on his ice cream. "If you didn't feed me, I'd smack you around."

"The basis of any good jailhouse relationship." Toby suddenly heard a noise in the hallway. He knew what it meant. "Shit. Elliot, get your stuff and leave."

Stabler look over at the door. "No. I think I'll stay."

Toby rubbed his face. He didn't want to do this with Stabler here. It would be ten times worse. "Fine, but don't make Johnson mad."

A half-hearted knock and Johnson and his goons came through the door. Stabler glanced over at them and went back to his ice cream. Toby didn't bother to get up either. "Hey, Johnson."

Johnson looked around. "Redecorating?"

"Yes." Toby pushed his anger to the place he'd kept it during his years at Oz. Eventually, it'd burst out, but that was later. The goons, there were two of them this time, seemed a trifle confused at first, but found things to do. He decided not to watch them, instead, he watched Stabler. Stabler looked relaxed and calm, but there was a vein showing in his jaw that the astute observer would recognize as anger.

"Johnson, don't touch my coat." Stabler sounded pleasant, but his eyes were cold.

Johnson came over to them. "Move it then. I have to search the couch."

"It's a futon." Stabler got up lazily. "You're getting a reputation, and it ain't a good one. How are you sleeping at night?"

"Just fine!" Johnson looked over at one of his men. "What?"

"He got rid of the bed." The goon smirked. "I tossed his closet though."

"Find anything?"

"Some money in his coat."

Toby rubbed his forehead. This would be easier if Stabler would leave, but Stabler picked up his coats and relocated them to the chair by the window. He was standing right there when one of the fuckers picked up the picture and tore it in half. The pieces fluttered to the floor. Toby sighed and went to stare out the window. It'd end. He heard something break in the bathroom and made up his mind to cut back to the essentials in there.

"Johnson, I always thought you were a stand up guy." Stabler sounded pissed. "This is wrong and you know it."

"I'm doing my job." Johnson smirked. Toby looked at him in time to see it. Johnson was in full prick mode tonight. "Go through his mail. Toby, did you get a cell phone?"

"No." Toby walked to the corner and leaned into it. He had a feeling that this wasn't near over. "Stabler, would you please go home?"

"Good idea." Johnson crossed his arms over his chest. "It's time for him to strip. Unless you want to help out."

Stabler put his hands on his hips. For a second, Toby thought there was going to be violence, but Stabler quit. He picked up his coats and headed for the door. "We'll lift tomorrow."

"I get out at eight." Toby nodded.

"Excuse me?" Stabler hesitated.

"I'm not allowed to leave the apartment until eight a.m., so sleep in." Toby gave him a weak smile and shut the door.

"Strip. Right there in front of the window."

Toby did it. He didn't think or feel. This was nothing. He was fine. He was.

_"You gotta do something about this fucker." Chris stayed close._

Toby shut his eyes and leaned over. At least Chris hadn't abandoned him.

********

Stabler threw his coats across the room to land in a jumble on a chair. Beecher didn't deserve that! Because he won't go to AA? It was bullshit. Stabler spotted the packet of pictures where he'd dropped it and growled, "Damn them." It was wrong. Beecher had just looked resigned. He could have gone to group! Stabler didn't understand, and yet, he did. It was about Beecher feeling in control of his drinking problem, and Benson was right. If Johnson pushed Beecher back to booze, the problem was solved.

Stabler changed into some jeans and a sweatshirt and went back downstairs. He sat in the stairwell until Johnson left Beecher's apartment. Johnson spotted him and strolled over. "Talk to him. Convince him."

"Why? I agree with him. How much money did you steal? Are you enjoying your new iPod?" Stabler got in Johnson's face. "You're making Natalini look good. Are you proud?"

Johnson turned purple. "I'm doing this for his sobriety!"

"And how much cash did you score?" Stabler wanted to spit on him. "Guess this is the difference between a CO and a cop!"

"Fuck you, Stabler!" Johnson got loud, but he backed away and walked after his search squad. Stabler followed them, but quietly, and slunk into the shadow of the building to watch Johnson yell at them. Money changed hands, and Johnson stuffed it away. Cragen had said to stay out of it, but that wasn't going to happen.

********

Toby picked up his book and started reading. He had one more chapter and then he'd go clean out the bathroom. The disaster in his bedroom could wait until after that.

"Hey, Toby."

Toby looked at him. "Heard of knocking?"

"I did. You didn't answer." Stabler came over to stare out the window. "How much money have they taken?"

Toby put his book down on the floor. He didn't want to discuss it, but Stabler never turned things loose until he got answer. "Estimate or exact change?"

"Estimate." Stabler put his hands on his hips.

"More than I can afford. It was my mistake." Toby eased out of the chair and took responsibility for it. "I had some stashed away here, and they always turn out my pockets. I have to carry cash because he confiscated my credit cards."

Stabler look at him in such a way that made Toby blush. "He can't take your credit cards."

"I think he can." Toby wasn't going to argue. He hadn't exactly researched the law and parolees, but he didn't think anyone had ever won a case against his parole officer. Stabler turned and looked around the room. He leaned over, scooped up some mail, and put it on the counter. Toby moved close to him and touched him on the arm. "Don't worry about it."

"Let me be the cop." Stabler didn't pull away. He took one small step. Toby looked up the one inch that hadn't been necessary with Chris into blue eyes. Stabler whispered, "You okay?"

That concern, so easy to hear that it lingered in the air after the words had dropped away, tore at Toby's inner core. It ripped at the place where Toby hid his true feelings. He shuddered. "What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing." Stabler put a hand on Toby's shoulder and rubbed. Toby knew in his gut that this was the time to shove him away, but when was he ever good at that? He stood near him and tried to let the anger and shame drain away. It worked, some. Stabler caught Toby's eyes again. "We'll go running tomorrow."

"Good." Toby leaned and let himself be held. He needed it, and Stabler was offering. It felt so good and it drove away the hatred, if not the anger.

********

"Can we talk upstairs?" Stabler leaned over and whispered in Benson's ear.

Benson got up and followed him. "What's the big secret? You dating someone?"

Stabler didn't have time to deal with jokes. "I need your help. I know that usually I do things my own way and damn the consequences-"

"But this time you're feeling more sane?" She smirked.

"Sorta. Sit." Stabler sat down at the table. He had thought about this for more than a day, and it was time to act. "I was at Beecher's the last time he was searched."

"And you're angry."

"I am." Stabler wouldn't deny it. "They intentionally broke things, tore up a picture of his kids, and generally wrecked the place, but-"

"I bet you were mad!" Benson didn't look happy either.

"Let me finish!" Stabler glanced down the stairs, but no one was around. "They turned out his pockets and confiscated his cash. And Beecher says that Johnson took his credit cards."

"What?" Benson leaned closer. She was serious now. "It was a shakedown?"

"More or less. Johnson swears he's doing it for Beecher's own good, but I followed him and he took the cash off his team and put it in his own pocket."

"What the hell is that all about?"

"I don't know, but I want to tear him into little pieces." Stabler took a deep breath. He wasn't going to do that. "You and I both know things go missing during these searches, but Johnson has stripped everything of any value out of that apartment."

"The TV?"

"I took it. It's on loan." Stabler glared at her smile. "Tell me what you think is going on, before I punch somebody."

Benson sighed. "It isn't exactly our department."

"They strip searched him in front of the window." Stabler had saved that for last. "And it's not the first time."

Benson got to her feet. "Okay. I'm in. Let's get him."

Stabler smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. "We have to do this quietly."

"Why? I say we raise a huge stink. Arrest him for theft and sexual harassment and let the chips fall where they may!"

Stabler squeezed the railing. "Cragen told me to stay out of it. He meant it."

Benson walked past him. "He didn't say that to me!"

********

Toby glanced at his wrist, remembered that they'd stolen his watch, and rubbed his face. Would it kill him to go to a meeting? It wouldn't. He could ignore the bullshit and go home after nodding his head like a fool for an hour. Shivering a little, he wrapped his arms around himself and grunted very softly. He hurt. They'd been careful not to hit his face though. Had it been yesterday or the day before that he'd been so confident that he wouldn't break? Damn. He was a fucking idiot. A few months out of Oz had made him forget how weak he really was, but he remembered now.

"Hey buddy, need some help? It's too cold not to have a coat on!"

"Fuck off!" Toby lashed out. This was New York, for chrissake. Strangers were supposed to ignore each other! The cold of the day started to settle into him, and he shook. Damn.

A drunk staggered past him. Toby could smell the whiskey. Oh God. He shifted on the hard park bench and took a huge gulp of fresh air. It wasn't fresh. Fuck. He rubbed his face again and got moving. Stan's Liquor Store was close. He had just enough for a bottle of rotgut, and then he headed for home.

It was almost six. He ran up the stairs and paused at the top of the landing. Drunk. He was going to get drunk. Wash away the aches and pains in a haze of sweetness. It was Johnson's fault. Johnson was responsible. Toby's hands trembled, and he almost dropped the bag. Carefully, he took the bottle out and pressed it to his face. He could almost taste it. Half of this and he'd be feeling no pain, until he woke up in Oz. Oz. Oz. Oz. Johnson wanted him back there, the prick. Toby shuddered. He needed a drink. It was Johnson! Toby caught a deep breath. No. It was him. He grabbed it with his T-shirt and wiped his prints off.

Meticulously, he placed it down in the hallway and went to his door. He opened it, sat down on the floor just inside, and stared at the bottle. This wasn't an easy choice to make. The bottle whispered his name and promised wondrous things. Lovely, lovely lies that he loved to hear, and he could hear them clearly. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out the torn picture of Holly and Harry. He put them on the floor in front of him. He had to cross them to get to the booze. Oh, fuck.

_"Toby, don't fuck it up."_

Toby couldn't take his eyes off the beautiful bottle. "Chris, you know I need that. Just once."

_"That prick will be here tonight, and you'll be drunk." Chris just wouldn't shut up. "You need to tell Stabler."_

Toby licked his lips and swallowed. He could taste it. "Stabler doesn't give a fuck about me." If Chris said anything else, Toby didn't hear it. The whiskey was talking now.

********

"Don't act innocent with me, Elliot. You're in this up to your neck!" Cragen pointed at him.

Stabler relaxed in his chair, blinked, and let his eyes droop. "You told me to stay out of it. I did."

"I doubt it." Cragen threw up his hands. "You know this is nothing but favoritism!"

"Benson thinks she has a case, and Toby works for SVU. How many skels bust their hump for us?" Stabler made sure not to yell. "How many parolees donate money to the widow's fund?"

"All of them will, if they think it'll get them something!" Cragen yelled. "Damn that Johnson!"

"Beecher helped track down Johnson's buddy, Karl Richens, so Johnson was getting some revenge, and the money helped with his gambling debts." Stabler didn't look away. He had done the right thing. "He confessed. I was nowhere near the interrogation room."

"Or he'd be bloody."

"Very bloody. He hocked Beecher's watch!" Stabler still couldn't believe that Johnson would be so stupid. "He knew Beecher would refuse to go to AA meetings. It was all in the file. Beecher had this same argument with Natalini!"

"And this was not in our jurisdiction at all!"

"Captain Cragen?"

Stabler got to his feet quickly. "Sir."

"It's good to see you, sir," Cragen said.

The chief of detectives looked at them both. "Detective, thank you for pressing forward in the matter of Tobias Beecher. He's done good work for this department. Captain, I expect full charges brought against the men that did this. It makes us all look bad."

"Yes, sir." Cragen nodded. "Johnson's a disgrace."

"That he is. Good work." The chief marched away. Stabler made sure he wasn't grinning. Never underestimate the power of a mother.

Cragen sighed. "What the hell was that about?"

Stabler leaned close. "He went to school with Beecher's mom," he whispered.

"Oh. You might have mentioned it earlier." Cragen went to his office. Stabler sat down and looked at his watch. It was after six. He'd head home and give Beecher the news.

"Is what I heard in the lounge true?"

"I'm not sure, Doc. You look angry." Stabler got up again. He had to get out of here.

"I am! I had no idea what Johnson was doing or I'd have never supported it!" Huang had good lungs for a little guy.

"I'm sure Beecher will understand." Stabler put on his coat. He wasn't sure he believed that, but it wasn't his call. "Don't worry. The court will appoint Beecher a new P.O."

Huang rubbed his forehead. "Elliott, please go check on him. He's been systematically terrorized."

"Not worried enough to go yourself, huh?" Stabler couldn't resist a dig. "I'm going home. I'll look in on him."

Huang gave him a look and walked off. Stabler made sure he had everything and headed for his car. He was worried. Johnson hadn't taken the watch the night Stabler had been there, so there had been another search very quickly. Beecher had to be close to snapping. He acted tough, but this was getting to him. Stabler parked the car and went up the stairs two at a time. He stopped dead on the landing, but Beecher didn't even see him.

"Hi, Toby." Stabler didn't touch the bottle, but he squatted down next to it. Beecher's sky-washed eyes managed to focus on him. "What's up?"

Beecher swallowed hard. "I need that."

"It won't make any of this better." Stabler noticed that Beecher was exhausted and shivering. Had he slept lately? His clothes weren't clean by any measure, and he had no coat. Bringing up the case against Johnson right now was not a good idea.

"It'll taste really good, and I'll be very drunk." Beecher licked his lips and lifted his hand towards the bottle. "And then I can get another one."

Stabler had talked people off ledges before, but this was new. "Stay right there. Don't move. Not one inch!"

Beecher dropped his hand and stared at the bottle. Stabler went to his apartment as fast as he was able, grabbed the packet of pictures off the table, and went straight back. He dumped them right on the floor in front of Beecher's face. "I can give you five hundred reasons not to drink, but these are the only two that matter."

Beecher quivered and shut his eyes. Stabler put one in Beecher's hand. "Explain to them why you want that bottle."

Beecher surged to his feet. He threw himself back inside and slammed the door so hard the hinges groaned. Stabler squatted down and picked up the pictures, pushing the door back open to get them all, even the ripped one. He could hear Beecher sobbing, and he stepped inside. Damn.

Stabler peeled him off what was left of the futon. He shook him gently. "Did you do this?"

"I didn't," Beecher whispered. "They were angry."

Stabler could only believe that, and he steered him towards the door. "Come on."

"I have to stay here. Johnson will come, and I can't go back to Oz!" Beecher dug in his heels and wiped his face. "Please. Go away."

"Trust me. We'll go to my place. It'll be okay." Stabler spoke softly. He had to coax him out of this trashed apartment. "Trust me."

Beecher bit his lip, looked around, and blinked up at him. "Chris said I should, but, well, you moved out. I don't think you care, not really."

"I do care, Toby. Trust me to help you. Please." Stabler shoved away the guilt. He did care, damn it. He'd just been scared, and he wasn't even going to think about Keller being on his side for a change. "Please."

Toby sniffed and swayed a little. "Okay. This once."

Stabler got him moving again. Toby was dead on his feet. Stabler snapped open his cell phone and hit the speed dial.

"Benson."

"Are you still at the house?" Stabler kept Beecher going, one step at a time.

"Yes." Benson lowered her voice. "How's Toby?"

"I need you to get the crime scene guys over to Beecher's apartment for pictures and prints. Okay?" Stabler avoided the question about Beecher. Beecher was a wreck, but the department didn't need to know that.

"Will it help the case?"

"Definitely. I'm taking Toby up to my apartment." Stabler held him a little closer. Beecher was about done. He shook and stumbled when he walked. Stabler stuffed his phone away and opened the door. "Come on, Toby. Stay with me."

"I need that." Beecher groaned.

"No. You don't." Stabler pushed him towards the bathroom and the tub. "Take your clothes off and have a shower."

Beecher crouched down right outside the tub and wrapped his arms around his knees. "I want that. Please?"

"Toby, it's me. Stabler. You can't drink!" Stabler peeled the shirt off him and tossed it. Damn. More bad news was all over Toby's body. "Who hit you?"

"No one." Beecher held himself tightly. "No one!"

"Okay. Okay. Settle down." Stabler knew the answer anyway. He pulled him up and shoved the filthy jeans down. Beecher flinched, but didn't protest. Stabler started the water and maneuvered him inside the tub. Handing him the soap, he ordered, "Wash."

Beecher put his face in the water. "I need that so bad."

"No, no you don't." Stabler left him, got in some jeans and a T-shirt, and went back to pull him out. Beecher had sat down and was letting the water hit him in the face. Stabler turned it off, helped him up, and toweled him off. "How about some sleep?"

"I don't do that anymore. Vern thinks Johnson is a great guy, and I can't deal with both of them." Beecher leaned against him. "You're touching me."

Stabler dried Beecher's face. None of this would have happened, if he'd been a better man. "Come on. You need some sleep. Johnson won't come here."

Beecher sagged, but made it to the bed. Stabler didn't try to dress him. Rolling him under the covers was enough. Stabler turned the lamp on low and sat with him. Beecher shut his eyes. "I can sleep?"

"Yeah. Johnson is busy tonight. Don't get up for anything." Stabler pushed the wet hair back. "Sleep." He sat with him until his breathing evened out. Shit. If Beecher was comparing Johnson to Schillinger, things had gotten bad.

_"You promised to look after him. Sure did fuck up, huh?"_

Stabler rubbed his eyes. Now was not the time to hallucinate Chris Keller, even if the asswipe was right. Stabler had run because he was afraid of a few kisses and this was the result. It wasn't all on him, but a good part of it was. Quietly, he got up and went downstairs.

Benson was outside of Beecher's door. She pointed down at the whiskey bottle. "Is that Toby's?"

"I never saw him touch it," Stabler told the strict truth. "Somebody used him as a punching bag."

"This case keeps getting better." Benson scooped up the whiskey. "This was never here."

"I never saw it." Stabler leaned against the wall. "He's asleep." He rubbed his face. "I don't think he's slept in two days, maybe three."

Benson gestured at the apartment. "I liked that futon!"

Stabler gave her a wry grin. "I don't suppose we could pin assault on any of those guys?"

"Toby wouldn't press charges. You know him. We could try for felony assault though. I'll talk to Novak." Benson sighed. "And you know the bad news? I'll bet you any amount of money that Natalini will be his new parole officer."

"We'll see." Stabler fiddled with his cell phone. He needed to make a call. "There'll be a hearing in front of a judge, and Beecher has a good lawyer."

"We better get pictures of those bruises." Benson stepped inside. "Doug! We need you upstairs."

Stabler sighed. Beecher was going to freak out.

********

Toby flinched hard at the first burst of light. "What the fuck?"

"It's okay, Toby." Stabler stroked a hand through Toby's wet hair. "I need a few pictures of your bruises. That's all."

"Don't give me that shit!" Toby shoved at him. "You're trying to get me shipped back to Oz!"

Stabler grabbed him. "Toby! I would never. Trust me."

Toby breathed hard and suddenly saw the face of the frightened cameraman. "Trust you?"

"Yes. You said you did once." Stabler was so close. "I'm looking out for you right now."

"Where the fuck were you yesterday?" Toby muttered. He gave in, nothing new about that. "Fine. Do what you want. Chris always did."

Stabler moved away. "Thanks. It won't take long. Doug, get close-ups and make sure to get his back."

"You bet."

Toby swallowed his pride and did what he was told by the cameraman. By the time Doug pronounced himself satisfied, Toby wanted to pass out. Shit. He was tired. Stabler sent Doug out and sat down next to him. "You did a good job."

"Fuck me." Toby pulled the covers over his body and rolled away. He was too tired to think, but his body quivered slightly when Stabler touched him. Shutting his eyes, he pretended that Stabler cared about him. It was enough to help him sleep.

********

Stabler went back downstairs. "You guys about done?"

Benson nodded. "I'm going back. Don't show your face at the house. Cragen is still hot."

"I'll stay here. Chief of Detectives said I did a good job, so I'm passing that to you. Good job, Olivia." Stabler smiled.

"You got all the credit?" Benson laughed. "No wonder Cragen is mad. Okay. I'm gone."

Stabler nodded and went back inside the apartment. Damn. He threaded his way through broken dishes, parts of the futon, food, and things he didn't want to stare at too long, looking for Beecher's clothes - a disaster, but some were salvageable. Beecher's leather coat was missing. Stabler leaned over and grabbed a shirt that he recognized. 'Fuck me' laughed at him. He found a pair of sweats and left the room.

"Señor Stabler?"

"Hi, Maria." Stabler frowned. He didn't like the look on her face. "Don't cry."

She covered her mouth. "Those men were horrible, but I was afraid. Afraid!"

"You should have come to get me." Stabler had to say it, but he knew she didn't trust the police.

"You are policeman!" Maria wiped the tears from her eyes. "Where is Señor Toby?"

"Upstairs, asleep in my apartment. Could you and your mother clean up Toby's clothes? The ones that aren't ruined? Otherwise, he's going to have to run around naked." Stabler moved towards the door. "Do you mind?"

"We will do it. Señor Toby is a great man." Maria looked down, put her hands on her hips, and sighed. "The carpet is destroyed."

"You're the building manager. Get this apartment cleaned up. Spend some money." Stabler patted her on the shoulder. "Earn your wage."

Maria took a deep breath. "You are right. Señor Toby counts on me."

"Bring his clothes to my place as you get them done." Stabler headed back upstairs. He went straight to Beecher and made sure he was asleep. He was, but Stabler sat with him for a good fifteen minutes. The phone call to Angus was going to be a rough one, but it was time to move on this. They had a chance now, if they worked it right.

********

Toby jerked awake and looked around. "Where the fuck am I?"

"At my place." Stabler didn't move. His arm twined around Toby's waist, and it was heavy. "Lay down. Sleep some more."

"Did we?" Toby stared down at his bare chest. He was naked. "You-. What the fuck?"

"Go back to sleep," Stabler mumbled. He hadn't opened his eyes. Toby wanted to run from the room, but a big arm pinned him down. He lay back and stared at the ceiling. This was beyond strange. Had he been drunk? Was he still drunk? He didn't remember all that much. This was definitely Stabler's apartment. It was right above his and had the same layout, but it was different.

"You feel okay?"

"I'm very confused." Toby tried not to wiggle closer. He wanted to scoot over and curl into him. "If Johnson catches me here, he'll transport me."

"Johnson is probably down at the Tombs." Stabler rolled to his back. "We could have slept some more."

"I'm awake." Toby spotted his clothes at the end of the bed and put them on before his cock decided that being in bed with Stabler was an excellent idea, and Stabler ran out of the room screaming. "I have to get home."

"No." Stabler sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Angus filed your change of address last night. It's on record that you live here. You're fine. Johnson is going to jail. That worked out well also. Your mother is feeling smug right now, and Benson is probably wishing she'd gotten some sleep."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Toby didn't get a word of it. Confusion didn't begin to describe his state of mind. He had to be drunk or dreaming. Wait. "Did I dream that some guy took pictures of me?"

"I need to start at the beginning, but I gotta have some coffee." Stabler fumbled off the side of the bed. "Call your brother. He was frantic last night when I talked to him."

"Well. Okay." Toby rubbed his sore back. Damn. He followed Stabler out into the living room and managed to catch the phone that landed on his chest. "I didn't know you had furniture."

"Yeah. I put it in storage when I moved in with you. Kathy didn't get everything. She didn't have room." Stabler started the coffee. "I put the weight set in what is now your bedroom."

Toby didn't try to think about that. He took a deep breath to try to quiet the butterflies in his stomach. The phone rang, and he dropped it. "Christ!"

Stabler walked over and scooped it up. "Try to breathe." He opened it. "Stabler."

Toby breathed. He felt almost strung out. Had he found some drugs? He wished he remembered.

"He just woke up, and he's confused." Stabler paused. "No. I don't think he should talk on the phone. He can barely put two sentences together."

Toby wondered who the hell that was.

"Doc, if you're that worried, come over, or wait until Toby feels up to walking and talking." Stabler nodded. "Bye."

Toby didn't want to know what Huang was thinking. It was all a bit much. He didn't even know what day it was. His shirt seemed to say it all. "Thanks. I think."

"I don't understand him. I never have. He's a good doctor, but he's at his best one step removed from an actual person." Stabler was talking, but Toby wondered if he was supposed to be listening. They exchanged a look. Stabler shrugged. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Toby rubbed his face and tried to think. It wasn't as easy as usual. "The strip search got out of control when Johnson took a call in the hallway. By the time he got back, I was on the floor, trying not to puke. He laughed and said, 'My reputation is on the line now. You're going to a meeting or you're going back to Oz. Decide by tonight!' And I said something to the effect of what he could do with his Nazi boots."

"Takes balls." Stabler made some toast. "And then?"

"I remember the park. Not much else." Toby rubbed his hands together and got up. He had to have some food. Pulling out a barstool, he sat and begged with his eyes. Stabler put toast and jam in front of him. Toby smiled. "You can cook."

Stabler snorted. "Right. You don't remember buying whiskey?"

"I did?" Toby's heart dropped through the floor. He was fucked now. Stabler would drive him to Oz. He'd promised it once. Toby couldn't look at him. "I bought whiskey?"

"We found some in the hallway. It could be yours." Stabler sounded doubtful. "Benson took it."

"I don't remember. Did I drink it?" Toby furrowed his brow. He'd been craving a drink, and he still was. "It doesn't make any sense."

"It might not have been yours. It was full, not empty." Stabler's voice was firm. "Some drunk might have left it in the building."

Toby knew then that he had bought it, but Stabler was covering for him. "Sounds plausible." He ate his toast before his stomach gave up on him. Stabler got him coffee, and Toby was grateful. Grateful. He was pathetically grateful. "I feel like I went through a chipper shredder."

"Ouch." Stabler drank some coffee. "Some of your clothes are in your closet."

"This shirt seems to fit the day." Toby ate a second piece. It helped calm him down. "Thanks."

Stabler nodded, but didn't say anything back. Toby had noticed that Stabler never liked being thanked.

"Johnson pawned your watch. I recovered it. It's evidence, but you'll get it back."

Toby's throat closed for an instant. He drank some coffee to clear it and managed to say, "My dad bought it for me. Thank you."

"Angus can fill you in on all the details. Benson ran the investigation."

Toby had said 'thank you' enough, and it was time to crack a joke. "Did you gnaw your arm off?"

"Just about." Stabler smiled, and Toby caught his breath. That beautiful smile that he saw so rarely. It made his life richer, and he was a fool. Toby finished his coffee and felt his muscles quiver. Stabler pointed. "Go lie down. Rest. If you fall over, I'm calling an ambulance."

"God. Not that." Toby managed to stumble only once, and he got back under the covers. It was okay. Stabler was looking after things. He could be trusted. Toby knew it now in a way he hadn't before. He shut his eyes, and dark fell on him.

********

Stabler finished his coffee and made a few phone calls. Angus was still upset. Benson was still tired, and Cragen was still pissy. Situation normal. Beecher's date with a judge was tomorrow at nine a.m. Beecher would make it, and Angus would be ready by then. The question of whether Huang would cooperate was still up in the air, but Angus was working on it.

Yawning, Stabler went back to his bedroom and sat down next to Beecher. Beecher mumbled and edged closer. Stabler gave in and draped his arm around him. Give in. Right. He'd moved out, but it hadn't helped. He'd even gone to confession at a parish where no one knew him. It hadn't helped. God help him. He was attracted to a man. Beecher. It wasn't right, but it wasn't wrong either. The whole damn thing fell into some grey place that Stabler would have sworn didn't exist. He'd caught himself looking at other men and wondering if he felt anything. He didn't. There was a nurse or two at the hospital that he wouldn't mind asking out, and there was a new tech down in the lab that was very cute, all women. So why Beecher? He was giving up on it making sense. It just was, and he had to accept it. Whether he acted on it was still in question, but he knew one thing now: he wasn't gay and it made exactly no difference. He still wanted Beecher.

*********

Toby groaned and woke up. His eyes were gritty, and he ached all over. "Am I dead?"

"Nope." Stabler pushed Toby's hair back. "You need a haircut before you see the judge."

Toby tried to process that, but gave up and yawned. He stretched, bumping into Stabler. "How about you get out of my bed?"

"This is my bed, dirtbag." Stabler gently smacked the back of Toby's head. Toby had forgotten that. He laughed and pulled the covers up. It was a nice bed, and it smelled like Stabler.

"I have to get up, don't I?" Toby didn't want to face the day or any of the people he was likely to meet.

"Sooner or later. We could go to lunch."

Toby rolled his eyes, not that Stabler could see it. "You always stop by work, and I'd rather not."

Stabler laughed softly. "Not today. I'm giving the captain a day to forget he's angry at me."

"That won't happen in a day." Toby couldn't breathe so he threw the covers back. He gave Stabler a look. "Don't you own shirts?"

"I was hot." Stabler winked at him.

Toby felt his heart skip a beat. "You are hot," he muttered. He sat up and edged away. Food would be good. "Okay. Lunch it is and you can tell me everything I missed."

Stabler reached out, clenched his fist around Toby's shirt, and pulled. Toby resisted, with predictable results, his shirt popped off. Stabler threw it off the side of the bed. "Not my favorite shirt."

Toby felt breathless, almost assaulted. He looked down at his bruises and cringed. "Christ, I'm a fright."

"You do manage to get the shit kicked out of you on a regular basis. Maybe prison would be safer." Stabler's eyes glinted. That was his idea of a joke.

Toby slapped his hand down on Stabler's chest and enjoyed the smacking sound. Stabler covered the hand with his own. Toby saw it. He saw it. He'd seen it before, so he knew what he was seeing. The heat of it poured over him. His mouth went dry, his heart stopped, and his blood ignited. "Fuck."

Stabler raised his eyebrows, and then he smiled.

Toby ran. He wasn't proud of it, and he wasn't sure why he didn't smirk and take advantage of the situation. Eventually, he'd have to get out of the shower, but for a few minutes, he could quiver and shake with longing. Oh God. Stabler had lost his mind. That was clear. Toby shampooed his hair and leaned against the cold tile. He had to face it. Shit.

_"You're moving in the right direction, Beech. 'Bout fucking time."_

Chris needed to shut up. Sighing, Toby got out and dried off. Clasping the towel tightly, he went to see what clothes were here. He found some clean jeans and a shirt that said nothing. Socks, Nikes, and he was almost ready to face the afternoon. He rubbed his face and sighed again.

"Ready?"

"Yeah. Thanks for fixing the weight bench." Toby stood and stretched carefully. He ached, but he'd never mention it. "Not that I could lift to save my life."

"No problem." Stabler looked great in jeans and a black sweatshirt. "Food would be good."

Toby grabbed his jean jacket. He'd forgotten he had one. His leather one was long gone. Avoiding thinking about his old apartment was getting tougher. They went downstairs, and he stopped at his door. "Anything salvageable?"

"Talk to Maria. She's working on it." Stabler didn't slow down. He had the car started by the time Toby buckled on his seatbelt. Stabler looked over at him. "Ready?"

"Not really." Toby licked his lips. "Go somewhere they don't serve alcohol."

Stabler shot him a look. "Okay. I know a good deli."

Toby nodded. That would be fine. He had a sudden thought. "Where's my wallet?"

"Didn't find it, not yet." Stabler made a sharp turn. "I'll buy."

"You have money?" Toby shook his head. "I don't believe it."

Stabler parked the car. "Too bad I documented those bruises."

"I didn't dream that?" Toby had wondered. He could only hope the pictures didn't end up posted on the bulletin board at the station. They walked towards the deli, and Stabler wrapped a casual arm around Toby's shoulders. It was weird. Toby made sure he was breathing. "That kinda hurts."

Stabler opened the door for him. "Go sit down. I'll order."

"I can stand in line." Toby looked over the line and changed his mind. "I'll go sit down."

"Smart guy." Stabler laughed softly. Toby found them a table near the back and sat down to wait. He didn't worry about the food. Stabler would order a lot and eat most of it. Toby tried to relax. Everything was okay. Right now. Later, things might suck again, but Oz had taught him to live in the now, and right now, having lunch with Stabler felt pretty good.

********

Stabler put the tray of food on the table and tried not to smile. "You're a million miles away."

"Not really. It's just good to sit in the sun." Beecher picked up a bottle of soda. "Root beer? Is this your idea of a joke?"

"Uh, no. I like it." Stabler sat down across from him and opened a bag of chips. "I got you water."

Beecher opened it up. He wasn't eating yet. Stabler pointed at the food, and Beecher seemed to get the idea. The deli was crowded, and this was no place to discuss tomorrow, so Stabler concentrated on eating. Beecher picked up steam as he went. "Good food. You know the owner?"

Stabler never understood how Beecher's mind worked, but it usually came up with the right answer. "We went to high school together. He's a good guy."

Beecher nodded and kept eating. Stabler watched him think. Beecher was worried. It was clear as day. Worried about them. He suddenly looked up. "Did Angus call?"

"I called him. He's coming over tonight, and he's bringing dinner, or so he says." Stabler hadn't understood why. "Does he bring food often?"

"Only when Mother makes him. I'm meeting with a judge?" Beecher didn't sound enthusiastic.

"Tomorrow at nine a.m. I think you should get a haircut." Stabler pointed at the long, blond hair. "You look like a hippy."

"You really think short hair will convince a judge not to assign me to Natalini?"

"Couldn't hurt." Stabler thought they needed all the help they could get. Beecher had to look calm and collected tomorrow, not right on the ragged edge of getting drunk. Stabler finished his sandwich and went back to the chips. "I should have bought some cookies."

"Mother will send some tonight." Beecher smiled a little. "So what happened to Johnson?"

"He's over at the Tombs, unless he made bail." Stabler hoped that hadn't happened. "He confessed when Benson interviewed him. And that reminds me, you're going to have to claim fraud on your credit cards."

Beecher rubbed his face. "Angus is going to yell. He's a mild-mannered guy, but he's going to start screaming."

"He's protective of you, and you get into all kinds of trouble." Stabler drank some soda and ignored the weak glare. "It was Karl Richens that started all of this. They were best friends and had been for years. Johnson acted surprised when I told him, but I tracked his phone records. Karl called him right after he was arrested. By the time Johnson got to you, he had a plan."

"I'm sure that makes sense, but I don't get it. No, don't explain." Beecher leaned back in the chair and sighed softly. "You're sure I didn't drink?"

"Not as far as I can tell. Did you do drugs?"

"I'm sure I didn't have enough money for anything good." Beecher shrugged. "I feel like I just came off a bender."

"When's the last time you got drunk?" Stabler wanted to know for tomorrow. The judge would bring it up.

"After Chris died. We'd been moved to Rikers. I was drunk and ended up in the hole. That sobered me right up." Beecher looked at him. "Five years?"

"You don't keep track?"

"That's the act of a desperate man." Beecher got up and took the tray to the garbage can. Stabler finished his root beer and followed. He'd known a lot of drunken cops and all of them had meticulously counted each sober day, wearing each one as a badge of honor. Beecher struggled with it, but he had enough of a life that he couldn't be bothered to keep track. For him, it was each day that counted, not the accumulation of them. It was probably another reason he hated AA. All those chips handed out and people bragging about them. Damn. He was complicated.

"Where now?" Beecher asked.

Stabler started the car. "Haircut?"

"Maybe you'll keep your fingers out of it." Beecher looked out the window.

"Maybe." Stabler saw Beecher's eyes reflected in the glass. They looked surprised, but not hopeful.

********

Toby stopped at the mailboxes. "I wonder where my keys are."

"Can't you jimmy it open?" Stabler opened his. "What kind of ex-con are you?"

Toby gave him the finger. "Maria!" She was somewhere in the building. His voice probably hadn't carried past the first floor though. "Stabler, yell for her."

"Cover your ears." Stabler took a deep breath.

Toby was glad he’d covered his ears. "Did you learn that in the Marines?"

"Yeah. Comes in handy."

Maria came barreling down the stairs. "What is it? Señor?"

Toby caught hold of her before she fell down. "Have you found my keys?"

She took a deep breath. "You scared me! Santa Maria!" She dug in her pocket and handed them over. Toby thanked her, and she went back upstairs without complaining. He opened his mailbox, took out his few letters and his cell phone, and shut it.

"You hid it in the mailbox!"

"Tampering with the mail is a federal crime. No one messes with the mailman." Toby grinned. He flipped through his mail. Bills. No surprise. "Okay, before I go home, where am I living now?"

Stabler rubbed his forehead. "Officially, you live in 3A."

"Oh well, you have my weight set and my TV, which is all I own." Toby went upstairs and stopped outside his apartment. The door was open. "I can't look."

"Then don't." Stabler went on up the next flight. He didn't look back. Toby went in his apartment, except that he didn't live there. The carpet was gone. All that was left was the little table that Benson had picked out. Amazingly, it hadn't been destroyed. He sighed. Fuckers. The walls were ruined and had several holes in them. Poor Maria. She'd probably quit. Toby grabbed his table and left. He didn't live there anymore. Nudging open Stabler's door, he put it by a chair. It looked fine.

"That's it?"

"Yep." Toby shrugged. "Remember what I said about shakedowns?"

"You were right, but we still got the TV." Stabler grinned.

Toby flopped down on the sofa, kicked off his shoes, and lay down flat. He was still groggy. "Aren't you worried about the searches? There will be more."

"No." Stabler joined him by lifting his head and putting it back. Toby stared up at him. Stabler tugged Toby's hair. "Looks good."

"You've lost your mind, haven't you?"

"You pushed me to it." Stabler put his hand over Toby's eyes. "Rest until Angus starts yelling at us."

"Good idea." Toby settled into Stabler's lap. He wavered between disbelief and more disbelief. Stabler turned on the TV and found some sports to watch. Toby took a deep breath that seemed to pull from his groin and relaxed down to his bones. He was safe, if not secure, and it was more than enough. Time eased away, and the next thing he knew he was being pushed upright.

"Come on in, Angus," Stabler said. Toby rubbed his eyes and tried to find his brains. He could smell his mother's lasagna and that helped. Stabler was going to be happy with dinner.

Suddenly, Angus was in Toby's face. "You alive, bro?"

"Still kicking." Toby got up, ignored the aches, and hugged him. Angus needed it. Toby held him and squeezed. "You shouldn't worry so much."

Angus set him away. "You're an idiot."

"I won't argue that," Stabler said. "Can we eat?"

"He's always hungry," Toby said. He had to wake up. "I am too."

Angus shook his head. "We need to talk first."

"You're the lawyer." Toby rubbed his face. "Let me wash, wake up, and we'll go for a walk."

"More for me," Stabler gloated. "No curfew, but don't stay out late."

Toby nodded and went to the bathroom. He had to wake up and find out what was in his future.

*********

Stabler filled his plate and decided to send Mrs. Beecher a nice thank you card. She didn't much like him, but he liked her. The Beecher boys didn't waste any time getting out of the apartment, and Stabler ate in the quiet. The lasagna was excellent, but he didn't make a pig of himself. Beecher was hungry too.

A knock on the door surprised him, and he answered it quickly. "Hi, Olivia."

"Is that food I smell?"

He laughed. "Want some dinner? Beecher's mom cooked."

"I shouldn't, but, um, yes." She smiled. "Not too much."

"It's really good." Stabler got her a plate and served her. She dropped her coat in a chair and sat down on a barstool. Stabler got her a fork and some water. "Did you sleep?"

"Enough." Benson found a napkin and put it in her lap. "Where's Toby?"

"With his lawyer." Stabler started eating again. They ate together in companionable silence. He was lucky to have her for a partner. She was opinionated and forceful, and that made her perfect to put up with his bullshit.

"I bumped into Dr. Huang on the way out the door. He'll call. He wants to see Toby at eight a.m." Benson wiped her mouth delicately.

Stabler cleaned his plate and tried to think of a polite answer. "I always wonder if we see things in Toby that he doesn't or if Huang see things that we should be worried about."

"A bit of both, I think." Benson smiled at him. "Toby's driven by issues that we'll never understand."

Stabler believed that. "But he ain't no skel."

"I agree. Toby doesn't fit the categories that it's so easy to push people into." Benson pointed at her plate with her fork. "This is phenomenal."

"Aren't you glad I shared?" Stabler unwrapped the cookies and set them out. Her eyes got very round. Stabler laughed. "Beecher's never moving out."

"Cuff him to something if you have to." She smiled and took a cookie. "I know you feel guilty for letting him talk you into leaving the other apartment."

Stabler wished it were that easy, and that he hadn't run from his own messed up feelings. "I let him down. I know it." And Keller needed to shut up about it.

Benson ate her cookie, and her silence was enough. Stabler was glad they agreed, even if it left a bad taste in his mouth. To get rid of it, he ate a cookie. It didn't help all that much.

She groaned. "Damn. I'm stopping by more often."

"You should. Toby likes you." Stabler quirked his eyebrow at her. "He put your table front and center."

"We're friends."

Stabler smiled and ate another cookie, but he was stopping at two. "I'm glad. Beecher has this faggot thing that makes my teeth ache."

"Mine too." Benson shrugged and nudged her plate away. "Prison did that. Cops like Levinson help keep it around. Stupid."

"I keep telling him to hire a pro and parade her around, but he won't listen." Stabler watched her closely for a reaction.

"You are such a liar." Benson laughed. "Okay. I gotta go. I'll be back more often. And if you want my opinion-"

"I do."

"Toby doesn't have to talk to Huang. It might be better for Toby's lawyer to handle it. His parole requires him to meet with a shrink once a month. He's done that."

"Do we want to piss him off?"

Benson put on her coat. "You decide. He has your number."

Stabler mulled that over. He escorted her down to her car and waved goodbye. She had a point. Stabler pulled out his phone and looked at it. An hour long session with Huang right before meeting with a judge wasn't the best idea. Beecher would be cursing and not exactly in a good frame of mind. Stabler turned his phone off. It wasn't coming from him. If Huang found another way, it would be Beecher's decision, but Stabler wasn't doing the shrink's dirty work for him.

*********

Toby clenched his teeth together tightly. "Have you asked him?" he hissed.

"I'm going to finesse the judge." Angus spread his hands. "I can't be in collusion with the police on this case. If Stabler doesn't want it, he'll speak up. It's our best chance."

"I can't blindside him and use him to gain a few hours more of freedom. I can't!" Toby crushed his cup and threw it. "Think of something else."

"This is it. Toby, I think Stabler knows. He's far from an idiot. Did you hear him before we left? He was taking responsibility already." Angus grabbed Toby's arm and squeezed. "He's an adult. He'll decide. It won't be coercion. Mom's cookies aren't that good."

Toby rubbed his face. He ached on the inside. "I'll take Natalini."

"You might get him anyway. We have an opportunity to get you something better. You have been through enough at the hands of the prison system." Angus was passionate. He was forceful.

"I'll talk to him first or you will not have my cooperation in this matter." Toby put his hand on Angus's shoulder. "I will go back to Oz before I will walk over Stabler."

"You love him that much?" Angus snapped. "Because he looks like Chris Keller?"

Angus's words hit Toby hard. Toby put his face in his hands and shushed the demon anger that roared inside him. "Elliot Stabler has become my friend. I have four, maybe five on a good day. I will not use him. It's wrong. Chris Keller is dead. I know because I pay the maintenance on his grave once a month."

Angus pulled away. "I'm not going to play the children card."

"Good. I won't have to hit you." Toby stood up. "I'm hungry. I want some lasagna before Stabler eats it all."

"I'll come get you in the morning. Do not talk to anyone." Angus paused. "And as your lawyer, I'm advising you not to speak to Stabler."

"I understand." Toby started walking for home. Angus fell in beside him. "Angus, I love you, but I have to do what's right, not what's easy."

"Again. I hope this time yields better results." Angus shook his head. "Dr. Huang is a wild card. He could go either way."

"Consider him the enemy and we'll be fine." Toby paused at the door to the apartments. "Are you coming up?"

"I have to get home." Angus sighed. "Please. If you have to, talk to Stabler, but no one else."

"I'll agree to that." Toby gave his brother a hug. "Thanks. I seem to be making your life hell lately."

"It could be worse, and it has been." Angus turned and went to his car. Toby stared at the dirty sidewalk. He didn't deserve a brother as good as that one. Quickly, he went up the stairs and knocked briefly before going inside Stabler's apartment.

"You don't have to knock."

"You own a gun." Toby moved in on the food. His stomach growled at him, and he scooped out a big portion. "Who was here?"

"Olivia stopped by. She's a fan of your mom's cookies."

"Angus says they're not that good." Toby found a fork and started eating. He could talk later.

"Angus is wrong." Stabler hit the mute button. He didn't talk though, and Toby tried not to bolt his food. Had he eaten at all during the time he'd lost? He wasn't sure. Why had he essentially blacked out? Huang would know, but Toby's best guess was extreme stress and exhaustion. It made sense. He'd lost time before in Oz.

"Ready for tomorrow?" Stabler's question jolted Toby out of his ruminations.

"No, but I have to go." Toby stopped halfway through the lasagna and ate a cookie. Angus was wrong. These were great. Maybe his mother had bought them at a church bake sale. It was possible. "Where will you be?"

"The judge has called me, Benson, Cragen, Huang, and you to his chambers. He assumes you'll have representation." Stabler eased up and stretched. He padded over and started cleaning up the dishes. "Should be a full room."

"I guess Johnson couldn't make it."

"No, but his sworn testimony on this matter will be there." Stabler snitched another cookie. "Don't be a wiseass in front of the judge, please."

"I'll do my best." Toby would try to stay quiet. He had to tell Stabler what Angus had in mind for them both. "My brother has this crazy idea-"

"Stop!" Stabler threw up his hand. "Not another word. I'm sure your lawyer told you not to discuss your position with anyone."

"Well, yes, but-"

"No buts!" Stabler slapped his hand on the counter. "The judge will make an informed decision. And you'll abide by it."

Toby swallowed hard. His blood still raced from the slap. "I can't."

"You'll do as your lawyer says. The rest is up to the court to decide." Stabler came around the counter and stood very close. "Please, Toby. Just let it play out."

"Okay," Toby whispered. He knew now that Stabler had set this ball in motion. Stabler had conspired with Angus. Angus had played dumb, and now Stabler was doing the same. It was incredible. Toby concentrated on his food, not the big, warm body next to him. Tonight, it was overwhelming, and Toby was so tired. "Okay. Back off."

Stabler went back to the dishes. He wrapped up the lasagna and put it away. Toby let his eyes wander up and down. Did Stabler look all that much like Chris? Toby didn't know any longer. Stabler was Stabler, no one else. He put a bottled water on the cabinet. Toby thanked him and finished his food. He handed Stabler the plate and ate another cookie.

"We square?"

"Yes." Toby drank some water to clear his mouth. "It concerns me that there are large blocks of time I can't account for. What if I screwed up?"

"You were shivering when I found you. Probably you sat in the park on that bench you like." Stabler wiped down the counter and started the dishwasher. "You passed your last piss test."

"I did?" Toby remembered giving his sample in front of the window. "And you're sure there weren't any assaults or robberies or anything in this neighborhood?"

"I checked." Stabler had. It was all over his face.

Toby appreciated the honesty. It was a huge relief that he hadn't hurt anyone. "Is it okay if I spend the night?"

"Benson recommended I cuff you to a piece of furniture to ensure further cookie deliveries." Stabler's eyes glinted with mischief. "Is the bed okay?"

Toby nearly poured the water over his cock. It was suddenly rock hard and pulsing. He coughed and tried to find his voice. Giving up, he ate his last cookie. Stabler hit the sound on the TV and settled in to watch the news. Toby thought about ice cubes until he could walk. At that point, he slipped over to a chair and sat down. He could do this. "I miss my laptop."

"He sold it on eBay."

"God damn that fucker!" Toby burst out. He bounced to his feet and paced to the window to stare out. Same view. More furniture to step around, but that was okay. "Where'd you get all this shit?"

"Marriage." Stabler muted the commercial. "If you had bothered to help me move, you'd have known."

"I was busy." Toby shoved his hands in his pockets. "You had six cop buddies to help. You didn't need me."

"What a whiner. Is that Oz, or were you like that before?" Stabler turned the sound back on. The distraction gave Toby time to formulate an answer. Good sense insisted he not say it. Toby sighed. He'd been a rotten friend that day. Fuck. Stabler had cared, even though he'd insisted that he didn't give a shit. His cop buddies had given Toby the cold shoulder. It had been enough to send him scurrying away. He was a loser. Damn it.

"I've always been a bitch," Toby whispered to the glass.

Stabler shut the TV off. "I'm going to bed. You coming?"

"Couch is good." Toby didn't turn around. "Or I'll stand here all night."

"Toby, please get your stubborn ass to bed. We'll have a long day tomorrow." Stabler went to lock the door. "I'm not gonna touch you!"

"I know that." Toby headed for the bathroom. He'd spotted his toothbrush earlier. After he pissed, he went to the spare bedroom to stare at his clothes. Maybe he'd just wear orange tomorrow to save time. He glanced over at the weight bench and went to sit down on it. He'd almost rather lie on the floor in here than embarrass himself with Stabler.

"Need to borrow a shirt?"

"No." Toby rubbed his hands on his thighs. "I can't sleep with you."

"Why not? You know you're still tired." Stabler leaned against the doorjamb. Was he really so obtuse or was he playing a game? Toby wasn't sure, and although he was exhausted, his dick didn't know it. He peeled off his shirt and hung it on the bar. When his hands went to his jeans, Stabler wandered out. Well, that was an answer, of sorts. Toby slipped out of the jeans and put on some sweats. He rubbed his hair, it was short, and gave up. What was a little more humiliation?

*********

Stabler stripped down to his underwear and considered sweats, but no amount of clothes could hide his hard on. He wasn't embarrassed exactly. Confused, yes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Beecher eyeing the couch. Beecher was scared too. They'd crossed into new territory this morning, and neither of them knew what to do about it.

"You can sleep there, if you want," Stabler said softly. He couldn't push for something he wasn't sure he wanted.

"I should." Beecher kept his eyes safely on the floor. "You don't know what you're doing."

"That's more true than not, but you'll have a nightmare and I'll spend half the night tossing and turning. Why don't we just go to bed and see what happens?" Stabler felt disconnected from his mouth. He'd said that?

Beecher didn't argue. "After I've humiliated myself, you can hit me."

Stabler was reminded again that he rarely understood what Beecher was thinking. "If it'll make you feel at home, I will."

"Just the reassurance I need." Beecher finally looked at him. "You sleep like that?"

"I can get dressed, but I pull them off at night." Stabler shied away from the baby blue eyes. "I get hot."

Beecher barked a short laugh. He seemed to give up, going past Stabler and crawling on the bed. His sweats did little to hide his hard dick. Stabler told himself not to notice and followed after him. They didn't touch, and they didn't look at each other. Beecher put his back to Stabler, and that was a pretty clear message. Stabler lay flat on his back and waited for his cock to give up.

"Need the light on?"

"You can shut it off." Beecher sounded tired.

Stabler clicked it to its lowest setting and left it. He tried to relax, but he could hear himself breathing hard. Damn. This was ridiculous. He should have gotten his rocks off in the shower and then this wouldn't be so bad.

"You changed your mind."

"Is that what happened?" Stabler wished Beecher would explain it to him. He'd gone from knowing it was wrong to knowing that it was inevitable, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how he'd gotten here.

"For you, this is wrong."

"I told myself that." Stabler had tried hard to believe it. "I even went to confession."

"That's some serious shit." Beecher finally rolled to face him. "Are you going to hell?"

"Probably, but that deal was sealed before I met you." Stabler tried not to touch him. It would be wrong to push. Beecher had had enough pushing lately.

Beecher looked skeptical. "So this priest told you to hunt me down and kiss me?"

Stabler laughed. He couldn't help himself. "Well, I do think his own sexuality leaned more in one direction than the other, but he didn't recommend that."

"I bet." Beecher gently stroked his hand down Stabler's arm. Stabler pressed his lips together so he didn't groan. A simple touch shouldn't do that. Beecher did groan, a breathy sound.

Stabler was sure he stopped breathing. He did nothing more than open his arms. "Decide. I can't yank you over here."

Beecher didn't move. "You could, but I appreciate the restraint. Give me a week, and then you can jump on me."

"Uh." Stabler's brain stalled at the visual image that poured through his brain. He didn't think he could ever do that. Not soon, anyway. Beecher laughed and eased across the bed to put himself inside Stabler's arms. Stabler held him loosely. It was definitely going to be hot in the bed tonight.

*********

Toby wanted to lick him senseless, but pushing too hard would only get him an empty bed. Stabler had never considered it. Toby remembered his own reluctance and surprise. It had been a shock to desire a man. Stabler made a sound, not of lust, but of comfort. Toby forced himself to relax into the warmth. He could hear Stabler's heart beating. It pounded through him.

"You asleep?"

Toby didn't answer. He kept his eyes shut and tried to breathe Stabler deep into his lungs. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and he'd need all his strength not to curse. "Thanks."

Stabler pressed him closer. Toby wished, but didn't. He wasn't going to ruin this simple moment of sharing with his desires. Warm flesh under his hands anchored him to the world, but his fatigue pulled him down.

_"I hate to say I told you so." Chris grinned._

_"Don't then, smug fucker." Toby moved his queen. "How could I know?"_

_"You never listened to me when you should have." Chris studied the board. "Always busy yapping about your own problems."_

_"I remember," Toby said dryly. "If you hadn't spent so much time kissing on Vern, I might have listened."_

_Chris laughed. He reached and toppled his king. "You win. Don't fuck it up this time."_

_Toby walked to the door of the pod. He pulled it open and looked back. "I won't. I promise. I love you, Chris."_

_"Back at ya, Toby." Chris rolled onto his bunk._

_Toby let the door shut. He smoothed his hair and walked away. Lockdown was over._

********

Stabler slapped his alarm and groaned. Damn. It was then he noticed the grown man curled in behind him. Beecher rolled to his back and rubbed his eyes. Stabler wanted to kiss him. It was hard not to.

"I slept like a rock."

"Me too." Stabler kept his hands on his own body. They had to concentrate on making this a successful day, not rolling around on the bed. He nearly wiped sweat from his forehead at the thought.

"I get the shower first."

Stabler wasn't going to argue about it. "You feel okay?"

"Much better. I may not curse today." Beecher grinned at him.

Stabler doubted that could happen. He sat up and rubbed his face. "I'll start the coffee."

Beecher got out of bed, straightened the covers on his side, and came around to stand near him. "Thank you."

"When it hit you, did it hurt?" Stabler hoped Beecher understood.

Beecher gave him a small smile. "Like a ton of bricks had landed on me. I was drunk for days. Just remember to breathe." He touched Stabler on the lips. "I'll be in the shower."

Stabler nodded and made his half of the bed. He was going to need a lot of coffee today. Getting drunk sounded like a good idea, not that he would, but he understood it. Something fundamental in how he looked at the world had changed and it was going to take him a day or two to get used to it.

********

"I'd like to speak with you before the hearing, Toby," Huang said.

Toby looked at his brother. Angus shook his head. "No. Toby and I have a few things we need to go over. Excuse us."

Angus used his body to step between them. Toby didn't think it was smart, but he wasn't the lawyer. "There's a lounge close."

"Go." Angus walked right with him. Toby pushed open the door, relieved the room was empty. Angus smiled and adjusted Toby's collar. "No tie?"

"Couldn't find one." Toby had been lucky to have a suit left. "I could've talked to him."

"He's going to try to push you into exhibiting behavior that might be detrimental to our case." Angus put his briefcase down on the table. "No one's pushing you around today."

"Listen to my little brother." Toby pulled out a chair and sat down. "All grown up and mean as hell."

"Don't forget it." Angus sat down next to him. "Answer the questions honestly, but don't blab on and on."

"Got it." Toby almost rolled his eyes. He was a lawyer too, not that it mattered. "I want to know one thing. Did Stabler call you?"

Angus narrowed his eyes. "Stabler is a client. That's privileged information."

"I'll be damned." Toby made sure his mouth didn't fall open. He finally just smiled. This might work out.

"Toby, the judge is ready," Benson said as she opened the door. "Are you?"

Toby nodded. "No matter what happens, Angus. Thanks."

Angus nudged him towards the door. "Don't get all mushy in front of the detective. Makes us lawyers look bad."

Toby followed Benson through the hallways and up the elevator. The room was full when they got there, and Toby tried his best to look calm. Judge Decker looked them all over and started the proceedings.

"I've reviewed the pertinent documents to this hearing, but one thing nagged at me. Detective Benson, why did SVU take on this case?" The judge didn't look happy.

"Judge Decker, my partner was at Mr. Beecher's apartment during one of the searches. Mr. Beecher was being sexually coerced into attending an AA meeting. That made it our case."

Toby nearly blushed. He hadn't thought of it that way. Good thing Benson had prepared for that question.

"Mr. Beecher, what form did this coercion take? I don't see it in the file."

Toby glanced at Stabler, one glance was all, before he answered. "Johnson conducted my strip searches in front of the window that faces the street."

"And you witnessed this, Detective Stabler?"

"I was there when Johnson told him to strip. Beecher was by the windows. He was upset. I left the apartment before it took place."

"You didn't see it yourself." Decker wasn't giving up.

Benson spoke up. "I have two witnesses that observed Mr. Beecher stripped in front of the window. They were on the sidewalk in front of the building."

"Do you have their accounts?"

Benson stood up and put a file on his desk. "Yes, Your Honor."

Decker opened it and started reading. "Mr. Beecher, you have a petition for me?"

"Yes, Your Honor," Angus said. He placed it in front of the judge.

Toby began to feel a strange sense of detachment as the last months of his life were discussed and dissected around him. Cragen had only positive things to say, but he made it clear that he thought the case had been pushed on him. Stabler was mostly quiet, but Benson had plenty to say. It had been her case, and she defended it fiercely. Johnson's report was read aloud by Decker's secretary and it made him sound completely unstable, and at that point, Huang started talking. Toby hoped his eyes didn't glaze over. Damn. This was dull.

"I think it's significant that Johnson stripped everything from Toby, but he refused to drink. It's a strong indicator that he'll remain sober."

"Johnson contends that Mr. Beecher was drinking, and he was doing nothing more than attempting to catch him at it." The judge surveyed the room. "Is there anyone here who witnessed Mr. Beecher drinking or intoxicated?"

Silence. Toby swallowed hard. The judge could send him back to Oz if he decided that Johnson was telling the truth. Angus cleared his throat. "My client has remained sober during the course of his parole."

The judge stared. Toby wanted to fidget. He was sure he looked like a drunk and an addict, and he was, but he wasn't. Damn. Say something. Decker suddenly gave a brisk nod. "Mr. Beecher, how long have you been sober?"

"A little over five years." Toby hesitated before continuing, "Every day is a new one."

Angus might have let out a soft sigh, but Decker nodded. "Commendable attitude. Too many people assume they're cured after a year or two. I'm dismissing Johnson's petition that you be remanded to Oswald for the remainder of your sentence."

Toby nearly slumped over from relief. "Thank you."

Decker picked up another file. "Let's focus on your current situation now. If your parole is lifted, do you intend to buy a car and kill another child?"

Toby nearly said 'fuck,' but choked it back. "No, sir."

"Detective Stabler, why did you have Mr. Natalini removed as Mr. Beecher's parole officer?"

Stabler looked slightly uncomfortable. "Off the record?"

Toby waited to hear the answer. He'd always wondered what had motivated Stabler.

Decker looked at his secretary. "Off the record."

"He verbally harassed Beecher. Called him a prison bitch. I didn't feel it was productive or healthy."

"Were you sexually assaulted while incarcerated, Mr. Beecher?"

Toby prayed he didn't have to show off his swastika. "Yes, Your Honor."

Decker motioned to his secretary. "On the record again. Mr. Beecher, do you live alone?"

"No." Toby wasn't sure he wanted to talk about that. "I have a roommate."

"His name?"

"Elliot Stabler." Toby was glad he didn't choke on the words. "He let me move in after my apartment was wrecked."

Decker flipped through some pages. He didn't look up for the longest time. No one spoke or whispered, and Toby could feel his heart thumping in his chest. Stabler had done him a big favor with Natalini, but Toby might be back there any minute. Shit.

"Detective, will Mr. Beecher continue to reside with you?"

"Unless the court orders otherwise." Stabler looked calm. It was annoying. Toby waited and tried to remember to breathe.

"I think I'm starting to see a solution." Decker stood up. "I'll inform you of my decision before lunch. We're adjourned."

"Thank you, Judge." Toby had hoped to know right now. Now.

Angus pulled him close. "That went well."

"Detective Stabler, give me one more minute of your time," Decker said. Stabler nodded and sat back down.

Toby waited until they were out the door. "That was a flimsy plan."

"Subtle coercion is the best kind." Angus pulled him into a corner where they could sit and talk. "Dr. Huang was almost on our side."

"You were listening?" Toby rubbed his face. It was over, and that seemed almost more important than the outcome. "I didn't curse."

"I was proud. I thought you might when he asked you about the car."

"I almost did." Toby slumped. That had been painful, but necessary. "Benson did a good job."

"She did. She felt strongly that you'd been-"

"Enough, Angus. I was there," Toby growled. He stood up. "I know where they keep the coffee."

"Good enough. The wait is always hard."

Toby took him to the mezzanine. Munch was asleep on the old sofa, or he was faking it.

"Who won the pool?"

"No one." Munch sighed and sat up. "Johnson being arrested took all the fun out of it. Cragen reamed my ass for being insensitive."

Toby nearly laughed. "You? That's just wrong!"

Munch reached in his coat pocket. "Here. This is for the Oz fund." He handed Toby a folded over packet. "It was Cragen's idea. I did the legwork."

"What's he talking about, Toby?"

Toby took the packet and sat down. "For the vests?"

"Yep." Munch looked sad, which was easy for him. "It hurts, but I did it."

"Munch, you've restored my faith in cops, and that wasn't easy." Toby meant it.

"Don't go overboard. It's not that much." Munch winked at him. "I had expenses."

Toby smiled. He stowed the packet away for later and looked at Angus. "I'm trying to raise enough money to buy the CO's at Oz vests that protect against shankings."

"Why?"

Toby pointed at his back. "Angus, have you lost your mind?"

Angus pulled out his wallet. "Let's get enough for visitors, if they want to wear them."

"I knew you'd understand." Toby smiled. "My scar is bigger than yours."

"Mine bled more."

Munch looked for one to the other. "Sibling rivalry is just weird. Later, Beech."

"Thanks, Munch." Toby watched him slink down the stairs. Munch was a good guy, even if he didn't want anyone to know it. Toby took the money, didn't count it, and put it in the packet. "I'll count it later."

"Just make sure Querns doesn't buy himself a new desk."

"Cragen has a plan. I'm staying out of it." Toby got himself some coffee and watched Stabler's desk. He didn't worry about what Stabler was saying to the judge. Benson was at her desk working on something. "I should buy her some roses."

"Not yet."

"Either way. She helped me out of a bad spot." Toby smiled. "And she's a great kisser."

"Toby!" Angus laughed. "And here I thought it was the dark-haired detective you liked."

"I'm flexible." Toby drank some more coffee. Angus didn't get it. He never would, and it didn't matter. "How much do you charge an hour?"

"Funny." Angus opened his briefcase. "We might as well work, if we're going to wait."

Toby took his coffee to the couch. "You work. I'll pretend I'm listening."

"Okay." Angus pulled out a file.

*********

Stabler shut the door and strode down the hallway towards the mezzanine. He needed some coffee and a good slap across the face. Judge Decker wasn't known for coddling criminals, and he had been insistent on several points. There was nothing like a long-term commitment to clear the mind.

Beecher looked at him when Stabler opened the door. Angus did too, but Stabler just shrugged and got some coffee.

"Did he make a donation?"

"How can I know? Let's assume he did," Beecher said.

"I did," Stabler growled. He went to the railing to see who was working and sipped his coffee. "Which of you Beecher boys is my landlord?"

They pointed at each other. Angus waved his hand dismissively. "It's Toby's building. I don't want the headache."

"Why?" Beecher asked.

"If you're going to live with me, I want my rent reduced by half."

Beecher smirked. "I had to double it. Otherwise, it would have shown IAB that you were getting a free ride. Can't have that!"

"Half." Stabler was going to insist.

"Okay." Beecher looked away. "I'll move out soon. I need the money."

Stabler didn't answer that bit of stupidity. He went down the stairs to check on his phone messages and email. Benson smiled at him. "You looked stunned."

"I feel like I got hit with a tazer." Stabler rubbed his forehead and sipped his coffee. "I didn't argue about it either."

"Did it hurt?"

"I was expecting it, but it was still a shock." Stabler slowly rotated his wedding ring with his thumb. "You're gonna give me a hand from time to time."

"I won't keep him out late." Benson found some paperwork to file. Stabler looked up and met Beecher's eyes staring down at him over the rail. Beecher didn't wink, smile, or make any facial movements. He merely looked at him. Stabler had no idea what was going through that brain, and he wouldn't hazard a guess. He waited for Beecher to glance away, but it didn't happen. Finally, Stabler had to lower his eyes. He drank his coffee and fiddled with some stuff that wasn't important.

"Elliot, Olivia, call came in. Move on it." Cragen handed Stabler a slip of paper.

Stabler grabbed his coffee. Benson got her coat, and they were moving.

********

Toby never looked away. He knew that Stabler would. Whatever it was between them was too raw for him to take for very long. For the next couple of days, Toby should sleep somewhere else. One long look too many and Stabler would be gone. He might regret it, but he'd leave.

When Stabler and Benson left, Toby went to sit at the table with his brother. "Can I use your phone?"

"Sure." Angus handed it over. Toby took it and went to sit on the sofa. He'd order another futon for his bedroom. There was enough room, and it would give him a place to get away from the temptation.

Time creaked past, and Toby was actually glad to see Huang slip in the door. Huang ignored the coffee and sat down on the other end of the sofa. "Let's go to my office and talk."

"Here is fine." Toby caught the hard look that Angus gave him. "He's my brother."

"Your decision. How do you feel? Angry? Frustrated?"

"Relieved that I didn't curse in front of the judge." Toby laughed softly at himself. There would be more questions. Huang never quit at one.

"Anger would be normal."

"When have I ever been normal? But yes, I'm angry that I went through all of that because I was being manipulated. Johnson stole thousands from me. He put me through hell for fun and profit." Toby saw the angry glint in his brother's eyes. "Are you angry?"

Huang nodded. "I was upset, but I was also upset that you didn't tell me what was going on."

Toby looked away and then back. "I did. Were you listening?"

Huang didn't answer that. He deftly shifted the topic. "Do you think you're ready for a life with no boundaries?"

"Do you live in the same world I do?" Toby didn't get this guy at all. No boundaries?

"That's my question. Are you ready to live in my world?"

Angus coughed and stood up. "Doctor, Toby knows more about bars, cells, and restrictions than you and I could learn in a lifetime snug and safe in our little houses. He knows nothing but boundaries. A piece of paper isn't going to change that. Toby, how long was it before you used a phone freely?"

"Months." Toby hated telling the truth.

"And do you sleep with the light on?"

"I do."

"Tell Dr. Huang why." Angus was in full lawyer mode, and he was getting his ass kicked later for this.

"Otherwise I think I'm in the hole, where it's very dark after lights out." Toby made sure the words were soft and even.

Angus wasn't quite finished. "And why do you stare out the window of your apartment, instead of going outside?"

"I'm safe on the inside." Toby stood up. "Enough!"

Huang stood also. "And you never dream of running wild?"

"I always dream I'm in lockdown." Toby clenched the handrail tightly.

"Toby doesn't know how to run wild, not anymore. I keep hoping he will take a chance on something, someone." Angus sat back down. "Now, a question for you, Dr. Huang. Will you be recommending Toby to a new psychiatrist?"

Huang looked from Toby to Angus and back. "I will. The trust has been broken."

"I'm glad you see that." Angus made a note in a file. Toby sighed. It was true. He didn't trust Huang anymore, not with his mental health, which was precarious on a good day. Huang hadn't listened. He hadn't really cared.

"Why didn't you listen?" Toby wanted to understand. "Was it me?"

Huang hesitated. "You did nothing wrong, Toby. I misinterpreted the data, and I didn't take the time to talk to Johnson when I should have. I'll send over two recommendations."

"No hard feelings?" Toby stuck out his hand. He liked Huang.

"None." Huang shook it firmly. "I hope you're ready."

"Me too." Toby didn't try to smile. Huang poured himself some coffee and left by way of the stairs. When he was gone, Toby pointed his finger at Angus. "I'm kicking your ass later!"

"Bring it." Angus didn't look worried. "For him, or any shrink, to be effective, you have to actually tell them things!"

Toby crossed his arms. "I'll take you with me. You have all the answers."

"Kiss my ass, Tobias."

"Yeah, well, fuck me, Angus."

"Uh, guys? If you're gonna fight, take it elsewhere." Cragen refilled his coffee mug. "Please."

Angus blushed, and Toby did also. Toby apologized, "Sorry. We don't usually fight."

"It won't be much longer." Cragen left them quickly.

Toby sat down at the table. "How do you know all that shit?"

"You're my brother. I know you." Angus handed him a file. "Look this over. It's right up your alley."

Toby opened it and started reading. It was better than sniping at his brother or throwing the table over the railing. An hour or two managed to pass, and Cragen yelled up at them, "Judge wants you both in chambers!"

Toby looked over the side and waved. Angus collected his things and filled the briefcase back up. "Ready?"

"Guess so." Toby went to smooth his hair back, remembered that he didn't have all that much, and pushed open the door. "After you."

Angus nodded, and they were going. Toby had the uncomfortable feeling that he was walking towards his doom. Stupid. They were escorted inside the judge's chambers, and he squared off in front of the judge's desk.

Judge Decker merely looked up at him. "I gave this matter considerable thought. You have demonstrated not only a sense of remorse, but also a willingness to atone, and for that reason only, I've drawn this up. Mr. Beecher, you have a simple choice: sign this and abide by it in full or accept Mr. Natalini as your parole officer."

Angus took the documents and sat down with it. Toby sat right next to him, and they read it together. Angus had to discuss the points as he went along. "My client is never eligible for a driver's license?"

"Correct."

Toby kept reading. Ultimately, it was his decision, and he wasn't sure. He read it all again. Angus turned the pages loose. "The jump from one and a half years to five years is a big one."

"Mr. Beecher served ten years of a fifteen year sentence. I think it's fair since he will have so few restrictions."

"Never driving a car could be argued as detrimental to his ability to find employment."

"This is New York. No one drives." Decker actually had the balls to smile. "Mr. Beecher has only to decide if five years under these rules is of equal value to eighteen more months spent with Mr. Natalini."

Toby rubbed his forehead. It was obvious the judge wanted him to sign. He hated being pushed, but his sense of fair play told him that this was just. "I have a difficult time believing that Detective Stabler agreed to this."

"You'll note his signature at the bottom."

Toby flipped the page. He'd missed it the first time. "Mother will be furious," he whispered.

Angus leaned over and whispered in Toby's ear, "Sign it. Natalini will make sure you serve out the rest of your sentence in Oz. That's five years either way!"

"I know." Toby did know, and finally it was the signature at the bottom that convinced him to sign. It was only five years. It might seem like forever occasionally, but it wouldn't last that long. "Judge Decker, have you donated to the Oz fund yet?"

Decker narrowed his eyes. "I heard about it, but no. Why?"

Toby grabbed a pen and signed quickly before he could change his mind. "I'm collecting money to purchase vests for the COs. You can help us, right?"

Decker took the document and handed it to his secretary. "Make two copies please. One for each Mr. Beecher." He opened his desk. "The money will go to the COs, correct?"

"It will. You have Captain Cragen's word on it." Toby pulled out the packet and didn't watch the amount that Decker shoved in there. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, and off the record, I hope Johnson rots."

"Off the record, I wish he had some assets to sue for." Toby stowed the money away again. The secretary handed out the ruling, and the judge dismissed them.

Angus clapped him on the shoulder. "We got everything we wanted, a little more time than I'd counted on, but it went well."

"Uh, Angus, you don't have to live with him!" Toby saw heads turn, and he blushed. He pushed the button for the elevator and stared at the floor.

"I know it's unusual, but the judge agreed and so did Stabler."

Toby got on the elevator and pushed one. He took a deep breath. "I can never drive."

"It's harsh. I know."

Toby didn't think it was possible for Angus to understand. He wanted to drive out and see Chris's grave, and he wanted to do it privately. Shit. Well. He'd think of something. If that was the only reason to have a car, he didn't need one. "Well, given the fact that I killed a child, it's fair."

"My money says that was Stabler's idea."

The elevator doors opened, and Toby went towards the parking lot. It did sound like Stabler. A punishment that would last. A reminder of what he'd done.

"In five years, we'll get it overturned."

"No." Toby shook his head. He'd signed. He'd live with it. "Let's grab some lunch and then you can go work for our paying clients."

"I like that idea, and you're getting a bill."

Toby sighed. "Fine. I'll have Stabler pay it." He buckled his seat belt and looked over the agreement again. When he got home, he'd post it on the fridge.

*******

Stabler leaned back in his chair, laced his hands across his stomach, and smiled. "We got lucky."

"We did." Benson nodded. "And it happens so rarely that I'm going to go home and celebrate by getting some sleep."

"Good job, everyone. Go home," Cragen said and disappeared in his office.

"You heard the man." Benson was gone before Stabler could get his chair upright. He should go home, putting it off wasn't going to make facing Beecher easier. Beecher might not be mad. It was possible. Stabler sighed and got his coat. He might as well go find out.

*******

Toby put his table by the futon and set up the small lamp that he'd bought today. There was still enough room for the weight set, since he didn't intend to open it up, unless the kids came to visit. That was a nice thought, and it was possible that Stabler might let him go spend the night with them.

It was time to think about dinner, and he almost hated to cook. Stabler would smirk and make a remark about how Toby was his bitch now. Toby rubbed his forehead. That wasn't true. It felt that way to him, but Stabler would never say it. He better not.

Toby turned on the oven, dug out the lasagna, and stared at the contents of the fridge. Stabler needed help. It was a wonder that he hadn't starved. While the oven heated, Toby made a list of things to do and buy. Five years. Five years. It seemed like a long time tonight. He stepped over to the fridge and read it all again. The good news was no more random searches. The bad news was there would never be a car. He still had to have a piss test, but now, it was every three months, and it was his responsibility to get it done. Stabler had signed it. It was hard to believe.

"Okay, if you're going to live here, you're going to lock the door!"

Toby flinched in surprise. He'd have to start doing that. Stabler had some nice things, and he wouldn't want to lose them. Toby wasn't sure what to say. "Yes, sir, Officer Stabler."

"And don't forget it." Stabler went straight to his room and emerged in jeans and the T-shirt that said 'fuck me.' Toby stared and then collapsed laughing to the floor. He laughed until tears ran. He laughed until Stabler pulled him up and smacked him across the back of the head.

Toby choked it off. "Thanks. I feel better."

"Get a good laugh?"

"I did. Thanks. It looks good on you. You can borrow it to wear to Cavanaugh's." Toby grinned. He had to stop giggling. "Damn. I haven't laughed like that in forever."

Stabler sat down on a barstool. "You get the mail?"

"No." Toby put the lasagna in the oven. "Well. Yes. I got my mail. I don't have a key to yours."

Stabler cocked an eyebrow at him. "Right. I'll get it later."

Toby found the skepticism refreshing. He did have a master key, not that he'd use it. He found the last of the cookies and set them on the counter. Stabler took one instantly. It was then he noticed the fridge, and Toby got out of the way. "I posted it."

"No shit." Stabler looked it over again. "I should have picked up beer on the way home."

"I put it in the freezer so it'd be cold by the time you got here." Toby smiled at the way Stabler quickly opened the freezer, put the bottles in the fridge, and took one for himself. He unscrewed the top and took a deep drink. Toby watched the muscles in Stabler's neck work. "Feel better?"

"Somewhat. Thanks." Stabler wiped his mouth on his shirt. "You fired Huang?"

"He fired himself. I wasn't all that worried about it." Toby shrugged and sat down on the barstool across the counter. "Angus pushed for it."

Stabler shrugged. "Huang's a busy guy."

Toby wanted to ask Stabler a number of questions about what the next five years would hold, but they'd work it out, no need to talk it to death on the first evening. Stabler would be a hard ass some of the time, that was certain. Stabler claimed the couch and turned on the TV. He probably wouldn't talk again until after they ate. Toby didn't mind. He went to find the packet of money and poured it out on the countertop. No checks, just cash, and he made piles. He didn't have the catalog any longer, but he could look on-line at Starbucks and see if he had enough. His estimate was fifteen grand.

"Got enough?"

"No way." Toby had known he'd fall short. "Munch had expenses."

Stabler lolled his head back. "That's a joke, right?"

"With Munch, who can tell?" Toby counted again at about eight thousand. It was generous of the cops down at the precinct to help out, and he'd kick in the rest after the rent was paid. "Would it be okay to put it in your safe?"

"Yes." Stabler snorted. "Maybe you'll lock the door if I leave it on the coffee table."

Toby put the money away. "Don't be a prick." He tossed the packet onto Stabler's lap, checked the food, and pulled it out. Getting himself a plate, he filled it and sat down to eat. "I left you a little."

Stabler got up with a soft grunt that Toby felt in his groin. They ate together, and Toby told himself again that despite the message on the shirt, Stabler wasn't ready for them to have sex.

"I'm not setting a curfew for you."

Toby wasn't sure how to react. He was grateful, but he didn't want to say thanks. "Are you putting a GPS system in my phone?"

"I was thinking your shoulder." Stabler didn't smile. "Okay?"

Toby took the last cookie. He knew that was Stabler's idea of humor. "Why don't they do that for sex offenders?" A random thought that had crossed his brain more than once.

"A little thing called the ACLU." Stabler obviously didn't think much of them. "You didn't answer the question."

"Anything for you, babe." Toby took his cookie to the window and stared out at the park. He could go out, if he wanted. Sure, he was safe in here, but he could go out. He might. Munching his cookie, he knew he wouldn't, not yet. GPS in the phone wasn't a big deal. He was sick of curfew. How often would Stabler check up on him? Probably not very often, he was too busy working. Toby stuck his hands in his pockets. He was part of Stabler's life now. Did Stabler know it? Had he thought it through?

"How are your kids?"

"Fine. Kathy is about ready to buckle and let me have them for the weekend." Stabler was clearing the dishes. "I don't know where I'll stack them all, but they'll be here."

"I put a futon in the other bedroom. That'll sleep two." Toby turned to catch the look of surprise that flitted across Stabler's face, and he pushed his own agenda. "If you don't mind, I could spend a weekend with my kids."

Stabler seemed to think, and finally when Toby was about ready to give up, he said, "Sounds good."

That was it. Toby nearly sat down from shock, and gratitude pulsed through him. "Thanks," he said.

Stabler came over to him and patted him on the face. "No problem. I'll know where to find you."

Toby caught the hand. Now he was worried. "My phone, right?"

"You have a tendency to get into trouble. A GPS chip in your phone is a good idea." Stabler gave him a squeeze and went back to the dishes. "And before you start yapping about your rights, I have one in mine."

"It's not a problem. It's sweet to know you care." Toby was expecting the glare and smiled in the face of it. It was hard to take Stabler seriously with that shirt on. Toby yawned, and it was a surprise. He was full and somewhat tired. It had been a long, emotional day. He'd skip lifting weights for one more night, but tomorrow he was going for a run. It would feel good.

"You can go to bed." Stabler finished with the kitchen and went back to the TV. His lap looked inviting, but Toby was sure Stabler didn't know it. "Or sit with me and fall asleep."

Maybe he did know it. Toby shrugged and found a spot on the couch. It was closer than two men would usually sit, but Stabler didn't seem to mind. He tugged Toby's hair. Toby relaxed and mindlessly watched TV.

********

Stabler didn't protest when Beecher fell asleep more or less on him. He did wiggle until they were both comfortable. Lifting weights seemed like a lot of work tonight, but he was going to get back at it tomorrow. His arm betrayed him by creeping around until his hand rested on Beecher's chest. It had been good to see him laugh. Stupid shirt had been good for something. The TV droned on, and Stabler didn't get up until Jay Leno finished his monologue.

"Come on, Toby. Let's go to bed."

Beecher sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Okay," he mumbled. Stabler left him there and went to lock the door. He put the money in the safe, brushed his teeth, and expected to find Beecher in the bed. The bed was empty. Stabler went to Beecher's bedroom. Beecher was stretched out on the futon, under a blanket. He was asleep, or it seemed that way.

"Is this how it's going to be?" Stabler asked softly. No one answered him. He didn't know what he wanted, but this wasn't it. Beecher was exhausted, and dragging him to the bed was a bad idea. Stabler went to his bed, turned off the light, and lay down. He was very alone, and he didn't like it.

********

Toby woke up in the hallway. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten there or what he was doing. "What the fuck?" He jumped when someone took a hold of his arm. "Oh, it's you."

"Come on."

Toby stumbled once and collapsed on the bed. He smiled and wiggled for the warmth. Felt good. This was nice, and he slept again.

********

Stabler woke up five minutes before his alarm rang, and he turned it off with a long reach. He sighed and told himself to ease out of the bed, away from the man with blond hair and blue eyes. Away from these feelings. Lust was a sin. Even desire wasn't considered all that great. Loving anyone but his wife, who would be his wife forever in the eyes of the church, was a sin. And telling himself all that made no difference at all. One thing all his years on the job had taught him was that love was stupid - just stupid. People did the dumbest things in the name of love. They lied, cheated, stole, and killed and all for love.

Very gently, Stabler put his hand on Beecher's shoulder. Gently. The skin was warm and strong, not soft. He shut his eyes and tried to reason with himself, tell himself again that this was wrong.

"It's okay." Beecher's brilliant, blue eyes were open now.

"I'm not sure of that." Stabler resisting bolting from the bed, but his muscles twitched. "I've never felt anything for a man."

"Yeah, that's pretty obvious." Beecher took a leisurely stretch. "What worries you the most? Besides going to hell."

Stabler had to think about it, but the answer came to him. "That it'll make me less."

Beecher laced his hands behind his head. "I think love is like that. It makes a person less and more. However, what you feel for me might be nothing more than a passing infatuation."

"I don't like talking about love," Stabler snapped. He didn't. He wouldn't.

"That'll make it go away," Beecher said dryly. "Let me know if it works for you."

Stabler almost slapped him. Love turned so quickly to anger. Love was stupid.

"You can hit me." Beecher rolled to his side and placed his hand on Stabler's thigh. The touch was like lightning had struck him. Stabler nearly gasped, and Beecher said, "I'll hit you back, but go ahead."

"Not a great way to start the next five years." Stabler reached down to take the hand off his thigh. When their hands connected, Beecher kissed him. The kiss should have been rough and hard, but it was merely a brush of lips. Stabler instantly gripped Beecher's neck in his other hand. "You're playing with fire."

Beecher managed to get away, and he abandoned the bed. "I'll make some coffee. You better hit the shower, or you'll be late for work."

Stabler stared at his hands before rubbing his face. "You make me crazy." The words weren't above a soft murmur.

********

Toby didn't look up from the computer when the young man stopped.

"Can I share your table?"

"Give me a minute and you can have it." Toby's fingers flew, and he sent an email to Sister Pete regarding the vests. He had the money, and he wanted her to know so she could tell him if it happened. Cragen had promised, but there was no harm in having her check.

"Sure. Have I seen you here before?"

Toby hit send and looked at him. "Alex. Right?"

"You remember me?"

"We did this the other day." Toby smiled a little at the young man. "You need some new pickup lines."

Alex blushed. He was handsome, and he knew it. "I feel like an idiot."

"Don't worry. I have a good memory for faces and names." Toby logged out and closed the browser window. "Here."

"Thanks. After this, you want to get a bite to eat?" Alex looked hopeful.

Toby picked up his coffee and took a drink. It was tempting. He hadn't seen Stabler in two days, or was it three? Benson had stopped by one night for dinner, but Stabler was among the missing. Frankly, it made Toby nervous. He almost felt free, and that was a dangerous thing. One night, he'd nearly gone to Cavanaugh's, but he'd chickened out. Stabler was running from more than just him.

"I ate earlier, but thanks. Maybe some other time." Toby pulled out his new cell phone, complete with GPS, and checked the time. He didn't have a curfew, but he didn't feel comfortable staying out late. After the hell he'd been through with Johnson, it didn't seem smart to start off badly with Stabler. Toby rubbed a hand through his hair. It was hard to admit, but he also cared what Stabler thought about him.

Alex slipped his hand over Toby's. "Tomorrow?"

Toby felt a prickle on the back of his neck. He'd felt it before. He glanced at the door and banged into the hard, blue eyes of Stabler. "Probably not, Alex."

Stabler was gone, that fast. Toby picked up his coffee and wandered out the door. Rushing was a bad idea. It'd make him look weak. He was, but he didn't have to look it. Stabler was getting in his car. Toby stood on the sidewalk and watched him drive away. It seemed to symbolize their friendship.

********

Stabler parked his car and leaned his head against the steering wheel. He wasn't the kind of man that could deal with this much emotion. It banged around inside him and came out as nothing but anger. Anger at himself for being a pansy, and anger at the world for noticing.

_"Fight it all you want. Toby understands."_

"Shut up, Keller!" Stabler knew he was losing it. After all, he talked to a dead man! He slumped back and tried to get a hold of his emotions. It was Beecher walking past the car that forced him to get out. Stabler trotted after him. "Where's your new boyfriend?"

Beecher stopped on the sidewalk and turned completely around. "Hello, Detective. You need to sharpen your skills. To have a new boyfriend, I would have to have had an old one. I have neither."

Stabler clenched his fist. "How old was that boy?"

Beecher looked him up and down. The disgust showed on his face. He turned away and went inside the building. Stabler didn't follow. He leaned against the brick façade and shoved his anger away. It didn't work. It came boiling right back. Unlocking the door, he got his mail and went upstairs. It was time to yell about this. Maybe it would help. He slammed the door.

"If you break it, you buy it." Beecher took off his shirt and headed for his bedroom. Had he waited to do that?

Stabler slapped the mail down. "How have you been?"

"Fine." Beecher came out of his bedroom enough to lean against the doorway. "Do you give a shit?"

"Yes," Stabler ground out. "We had a case. I couldn't get home."

"I didn't mind. It gave the bruises from my last PO time to heal." Beecher crossed his bare arms. "I got the phone you sent."

"Carry it."

Beecher narrowed his eyes. "If you're having buyer's regret, it isn't my fault. You signed on the dotted line."

"I'm aware of that!" Stabler wanted to kick a piece of furniture over. "I'm not angry with you!"

Beecher looked skeptical. "Is that what you screamed at your wife? I don't give a fuck who you're angry at. Take it elsewhere."

Stabler knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he had to calm down. The tiny voice was hard to hear. His anger shifted gears and focused. There was one thing that he had to know right now. "You still love Keller?"

Beecher pulled his head back. "What?"

"Answer the question." Stabler moved in closer to him. Five years was a long time to watch Beecher moan about Keller. Stabler snapped, "Now!"

"Do you think it'll just go away? Like snow in the street?" Beecher sighed and shook his head. "All our loves stick with us. I love you, but I haven't forgotten him."

"You should!" Stabler edged closer to being completely out of control. He didn't want to hear how Beecher loved him. Loved him?

"God knows I try." Beecher shoved his hands in his pockets. "Why are you so fucked up tonight?"

Stabler didn't want to answer that. He wasn't sure he could, but it burst out of him. "Took us three days to find the bastard that killed them. I finally get away and-"

"I'm holding hands with some fucker at Starbuck's," Beecher finished for him. Stabler couldn't say any more. Beecher pulled his phone from his pocket. "If you'd have called, I could have met you, or helped you, or at least known that you were fucking alive!"

"Like it matters." Stabler couldn't yell any longer. He went to his room and got out of his clothes. Throwing them was a harmless way to burn off some anger. He locked his gun and shield away. He wasn't jealous. Damn it. And Beecher had no right to be angry. It was the job. Kathy had understood. Stabler stopped himself. No. That wasn't true. Beecher understood. Kathy had ignored it and then given up on him.

"It matters to me." Beecher stood in Stabler's doorway. "I missed you. Not much, but some. I put my life in your hands, and you left. I haven't felt exactly reassured."

Stabler realized he was only in his underwear. "We aren't married!"

"No, but you sure did shackle us together." Beecher moved inside the room. He was too close, and he reached to brush his fingers over Stabler's mouth. "This is me. You can yell all you want. It doesn't scare me. I know the job sucks. You don't have to call, but don't be angry if I'm not waiting here with your fucking dinner!"

Stabler forced his teeth to stop grinding. "Don't pretend you give a shit."

"Don't pretend that I don't." Beecher smiled gently at him. "You dumb fucker."

Stabler stood up to knock him through the wall, but before he could do anything, Beecher knelt in front of him. Knelt down, like a penitent at church, ready for communion. Stabler stared at him. "Get up."

Beecher looked up. "I want you."

"You're begging?" Stabler couldn't believe this stupid scene. His anger had made this happen. Beecher was willing to suck cock to save his life. Prison habits die hard.

"I'm asking very politely for you to consider that the reason you're so angry is because you want me, and you can't face it." Beecher spread his hands. "I understand. You need to act on it or knock me into tomorrow."

Stabler heard the words, but they didn't make much sense. He sat back down on the bed so he wasn't so close to Beecher's tempting body. God, he was an asshole. Beecher wasn't begging. He was trying to reason with the anger. Stabler rubbed his forehead and felt like a complete asswipe. "I'm sorry."

Beecher got up and sat down next to him on the bed. "And the shrink says I'm fucked up. Elliot, this extreme anger followed by you thinking you're a piece of shit is irritating."

"Thanks." Stabler just felt tired now. His anger was gone in a flash, and he was left with the dregs. "My shrink thinks I'm fucked up too. Feel better?"

"Why did you do this to yourself? You should have walked away from me, not signed on for more." Beecher slid his hand down Stabler's arm and loosely clasped him. The touch was more welcome than Stabler could deal with. He wanted more. He wanted to find out exactly how Beecher felt, everywhere. Beecher was waiting for an answer, but he wasn't going to get one. Stabler wasn't going to discuss his many faults, not tonight. He stared at the hand on him and felt his last wall, the one he'd thrown up in desperation, crumble.

********

Toby didn't know what to say to make this right. Stabler seemed tired, dejected, and the choices he'd made weren't the ones he wanted to live with. Toby understood it all, but he couldn't fix it. He leaned a little, just to let him know he cared. When their lips met, he was shocked, and he gasped softly. Stabler left him gasping and went to the front room. Toby groaned, adjusted his hard cock in his jeans, and followed him.

Stabler grabbed a beer and put it on his cock. "Eyow!"

Toby sat on a barstool and stared in wonderment. "You Catholics are serious about sin."

Stabler unscrewed it and took a deep breath. "I don't want to be led around by my cock."

"That's a visual image that I could have done without." Toby wiggled his hips and stood. "Um, I'll be my room. Later."

"Running off to stroke it?"

"I don't see you volunteering, and I hurt." Toby popped his top button. "I guess you could hand me a bottle."

"You're not supposed to touch beer." Stabler looked slightly smug. He was enjoying this, the prick. "Don't bring your friends, and you know what I mean, home."

Toby blinked at the sudden change in topic. "What am I suppose to do? Fuck them in the hall?"

"Keep it zipped."

"For five years! You have lost your fucking mind." Toby yanked his zipper down and gave himself some breathing room. "I want hotel privileges."

Stabler put the beer back on his cock and flinched. "No."

"You prick!" Toby could see the sparkle in Stabler's eyes. It meant something. Casting good sense to the wind, he took three steps, dropped to his knees, and licked the beer bottle. It was cold and smelled delicious. Stabler's hand wrapped itself in Toby's short hair. Toby groaned. "Hold still for two minutes and I'll be done."

Stabler heaved out a huge sigh. "Why me?" He slid the bottle out of Toby's reach and took another long drink. Toby pulled against the hand and leaned his face into Stabler's strong thigh. Oh God. The events between them tumbled through his mind, and he saw again how blessed he was to have Stabler hanging around. He breathed deeply and said thanks to whoever had made this happen.

"If you let go, I'll go take a cold shower," Toby said. He couldn't push himself on him. It wasn't the right thing to do. "I guess five years isn't that long to get quickies on the street."

Stabler put the bottle down on the countertop and pulled him up. "No quickies."

Toby didn't resist as Stabler manhandled him to the bedroom. Stabler had obviously taken courses in how to subdue people. Toby hit the bed hard and felt the air whoosh from his lungs. Stabler covered him instantly. Their hands grappled and their bodies pushed. Toby drew a deep breath. "Where's my 'fuck me' shirt?"

Stabler kissed him hard. "You don't need it."

"You sure? You're kinda dense." Toby found enough distance to tear off his shirt. He nearly shouted in surprise when Stabler did the job on Toby's jeans. Stabler had an almost tortured look on his face, as if he wanted it but couldn't believe it. Toby didn't need much, just the fact he was here was enough to push him to the point of release, but he had to have something first and he started applying his tongue to the warm, supple flesh. God. It was better than he'd imagined.

"Hey, wait." Stabler tugged at him.

Toby shoved the offending hand away and went for what he wanted. He licked and nuzzled when suddenly he remembered that some consent might not be a bad idea.

"Is it okay if I do this? I don't want you arresting me."

"Like I would file a report." Stabler gripped him tightly. Toby took that as implied consent and went back to licking. Oh God. The skin, the smell, and the strong hands sent a rush through him that was as intense as anything he'd ever felt. If Stabler was groaning or moaning, Toby couldn't hear a thing over the pounding in his brain. Swirling his tongue, he shut his eyes and shoved his mouth full. He tingled and moaned as that simple a movement was enough to make him come. Swallowing, he grabbed two handfuls of a very sweet ass and squeezed.

"Damn!"

Toby drifted away into a haze of pleasure and didn't come up for air until Stabler made him. "What?"

Stabler held him gently and put his hand over Toby's eyes. Toby got the message. Stabler wanted to enjoy it. He didn't want to stare into the eyes of the man who'd given him such pleasure. It was a sin after all.

*********

Stabler had no idea what to say. Luckily, Beecher seemed happy enough in the quiet. The air seemed thick with emotion and words that were better off unsaid. Stabler felt the last of the tension ease away and he drowsed. Part of his mind still gasped at the intense pleasure, but the rest of him didn't want to analyze it too closely. Whatever this was between them would be a casual thing. He repeated it twice. Beecher wouldn't stop holding hands with strangers, and Stabler might ask out that cute nurse. A warm hand crept up his body and rubbed. Stabler sat up enough to kiss Beecher on the forehead.

"Hungry?"

"Very," Stabler said. "Why?"

"Your stomach is rumbling." Beecher kissed it. "Let's go get a burger."

"No casseroles?" Stabler could only hope.

"My mother is coming over tomorrow to see the new place. I'm sure she'll bring food." Beecher kissed across Stabler's hips. "Again?"

Stabler popped open his eyes and pushed up to lean on his elbows. "Right now?"

Beecher blushed. "Never mind." He stole a kiss and left the bed. "I'm sorta sticky."

Stabler pulled his underwear back up and found some clothes. He was hungry and embarrassed, but mostly hungry. Shrugging on a shirt, he grabbed his leather jacket. They'd go to Cavanaugh's and eat. That would ensure they didn't discuss what had just happened.

********

Toby tied his Nikes and glanced out the window. He'd need a jacket, and he made sure his cell phone was charged and in his pocket.

"Early run?"

"Yes. Mother and I are going out for lunch." Toby found his towel and draped it over his shoulder. They hadn't talked about what happened, and he didn't think they would. Stabler couldn't. Toby had slept on the futon last night, and Stabler hadn't argued about it.

"Give her my regards."

"Will do." A knock on the door interrupted them, and Toby answered it. "Tom?"

"Are you, uh, going for a run?" Tom looked at his shoes.

"Yeah." Toby looked back at Stabler's suddenly hard face. "You clean, Tom?"

"Yes. I swear. Nothing since that night." Tom was telling the truth. "I'm going to a group."

Toby was satisfied, but he waited for Stabler's decision. Stabler shrugged and looked away. That was it. He didn't much care. Toby looked back at Tom. "Let's go for a run."

Tom smiled, and Toby left with him. Toby stopped briefly at his old apartment. Maria was there, painting. She had insisted that she could do it, and Toby had stopped arguing.

"Okay?"

"Si, Señor Toby." Maria smiled. She was doing a good job. "Will you move back?"

"No, Maria. I'll stay upstairs. We'll find someone that needs a place." Toby waved and caught up with Tom. They went together across the street and started stretching. Toby looked back once. There was no one at the window.

********

Stabler snapped his gun on his belt and put his badge in his pocket. He listened to Beecher's receding footsteps. Tom was back, and Beecher needed a friend. It was nothing but that. Beecher was smart enough to stay out of trouble, usually. Stabler walked over to the window and waited. They came out together. Tom laughed, and they headed across the street. Stabler leaned into the wall and the shadow. It didn't matter. Beecher was going to have friends. He looked back at the window. He looked back. Stabler locked the door on his way out.

********  
End


End file.
